


Then Comes Damage

by HomeIsWhereThePantsArent



Series: Punchline [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Biting, Bottom Eren Yeager, Dry Humping, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Hange Zoë/Levi, Mixed Martial Arts, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 71,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomeIsWhereThePantsArent/pseuds/HomeIsWhereThePantsArent
Summary: Levi is looking for the W in the world of fighting. Eren wants more than the D in Levi’s basement bedroom. Neither want drama, but they’re both gonna get some. Worse, the flavour of the drama is familial.Levi swears a lot and Eren gets angry about injustices in their world. Mikasa likes punching things or watching things be punched, and Armin blasts tunes to drown out Eren’s BS. Furlan likes dogs, Isabel feeds raccoons, and Kenny, he’s pretty fly for an old guy.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Series: Punchline [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016104
Comments: 125
Kudos: 126





	1. A Juvenile Product of the Working Class

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the oneshot Fist Comes Love. You don’t need the info from the first story to pick up what is being put down here, but the oneshot is chronologically the first block in the yellowbrick road of fights and feelings.
> 
> I’ll provide specific trigger warnings at the start of each chapter. Considering that this is a story with plot points surrounding professional fighting, it’s safe to say there will be mentions of violence in each chapter, but I’ll note anything that would otherwise be unexpected.
> 
> Lastly but not leastly, I have written the entire story and am editing as I post, so it won’t be abandoned :)

“Tuna or ham?”

“A tuna sandwich from a convenience store? Do you want to die straddling the shitter?”

“C’mon, Levi. I’m tired and we haven’t even started work.” Furlan rubbed his forehead. “Just pick something with as few complaints as possible.”

“Ham, then.”

“I’ll get one for Isabel too.” Furlan looked over the selection of sandwiches. The fluorescent lights made the veins in his eyes redder and the bags underneath bluer. He rubbed his brow. “Fuck, what does she like again? These early morning shifts are killer.”

“Just get her ham too.” Levi leaned against the fridge door next to Furlan.

“Right. But she feeds half the bread to the birds and leaves the meat for this supposed raccoon that haunts the dumpsters out back.” Furlan pressed his head against the cool glass. “Maybe we should just buy her pack of cheese.”

“Hey, are you kids actually buying anything or just letting the cold air out?” The clerk called down the aisle. He’d been watching them since they entered the store. They weren’t the only ones there at 4:00 am, but they weren’t like the clean-cut boys wearing designer clothes, laughing about spending their parents money on beer and cigarettes. They were Underground boys, in clothes that were stained with everything from motor oil to fish guts. They’d had quite a few jobs before they’d even hit 20, but the same clothes through all of them.

Furlan apologized and shut the door. He gave Levi a look to tell him to sheath the daggers in his eyes before they went up to pay. Levi was going to flip him the bird, but something behind Furlan made his eyes go wide. He grabbed Furlan by the collar and forced him to the floor.

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi hissed preemptively. Furlan wasn’t about to make noise, not when Levi was willingly pressing them into the dirty floor. The only thing Levi liked less than dirt was dying.

The clean-cut boys had pulled up their hoodies and scarves. One was raiding the liquor aisle and another was at the door, looking up and down the street. The largest was at the cash, presumably holding something that was threatening enough to make the cashier raise his hands.

“Did they not see us come in?” Furlan whispered.

“Nah, they just don’t expect us to be trouble.”

“What do we do then?”

“Don’t be trouble.”

Furlan looked at Levi. His face was blank as he watched the big guy order the cashier to slowly open the till.

“Levi, the big guy has a gun and he’s twitchy.”

“So?”

“So he could pull the trigger any moment. We’ve got to help out.”

Levi blinked slowly. “No.”

“Now’s not the time to be a frigid bastard.”

Levi pointed at the guys around the store. “There’s no way we could get to him without the other two seeing us. Even without a gun, three on two is shit odds.”

“You can  _ fight _ . **”**

Levi huffed. “I’m good, but not that good. We wait it out. They’ll get what they want, leave, and everyone gets to live.”

The guy at the door left his post to yell at the guy with the gun. “Hey! You said  _ just booze _ . Why are you getting him to empty the register?”

“Fuck off back to the door,” the gun-holder growled.

“C’mon, man. Put the gun down. We don’t need his money. Just his cooperation.”

The guy holding the gun grabbed the other guy and shoved him towards the door. “Watch the  _ fucking _ door.”

“Okay, okay.” He dusted down his shirt. “Don’t get all handsy, bro.”

“Don’t be a sensitive bitch, then.”

Levi snorted. “These guys are fucking idiots.”

Before Mr. Sensitive could return to his post, the door opened. Furlan and Levi’s hearts sank through the dirty flooring and probably as deep as the sewer systems when they recognized Isabel’s voice.

“Are you guys arguing about tuna again—What the hell?”

Despite their hearts being somewhere between the tiles and sewers, Levi felt his skip a beat. Luckily, his eyes and feet missed nothing. In the time it took for Mr. Gunman to pivot his body towards Isabel, Levi was almost on him. He was delayed by Mr. Booze-Hound, but a dirty elbow to the forehead sent him crashing into the shelves. The shattering bottles made the world’s most dangerous slip n’ slide.

Furlan dashed for Mr. Sensitive as he was somewhere between trying to restrain Isabel and shoving her out the door. His tackle sent all three of them to the ground.

Mr. Gunman swivelled around, uncertain of where to point his gun, and locked eyes with the cashier as he dipped his fingers under the cash to ring the alarm. He raised the gun. Levi thought he heard him mutter, “Why couldn’t you just stay down?”

“Motherfucker DON’T,” Levi bellowed, slipping in the reeking booze as he tried to rush him.

The gun went off. Levi wasn’t even certain Mr. Gunman meant it to, he was shaking so bad. He had enough wits about him to get himself out of there though. “Come on, guys. Let’s go!”

Levi had a choice to make. He was confident in his abilities and young enough to still buy into the thought he was invincible. He could get the gun out of Mr. Trigger-Happy’s hands and force this wannabe thug-life prep piece of shit’s lights to shut off, and the police could have him. Or…Levi looked at the cashier. He was on the floor, clutching his arm. Levi wasn’t sure where all that blood was coming from. He felt his stomach churn at the sight, but...

Levi  _ tch _ ed and darted for the back of the store. By the time he grabbed the medical supplies and got to the front again, the pieces of shit had cleared out.

“Get out of here,” Levi said to Furlan and Isabel.

“We should wait for the cops. Give statements,” Furlan said. He put an arm around Isabel. She was shaking. Or maybe Furlan’s trembling was affecting her.

“You’re not thinking straight. Three kids clearly from The Underground? They’ll at least suspect us.”

“The cashier—”

“Might not be around to advocate for us.” Levi hopped the counter. 

The cashier was breathing, but not evenly. His eyes were wide and looking nowhere. He managed to get out, “Am I dying?”

Levi crouched down. “Fuck if I know.”

“Levi,” Isabel threw off Furlan’s arm, “we should all leave together. The bus is coming and—”

Levi spared her one look. “Then get on it.”

Furlan grabbed Isabel by the arm. Furlan glared over his shoulder. “Everyone gets to live, right, Mr. Don’t-Get-Involved?”

Levi busied himself ripping open the cashier’s shirt. “That’s the plan.”

Furlan made an annoyed noise, but left.

Levi had bandaged himself plenty of times before, so patching someone else up was easy. He made to stand, but the cashier grabbed his wrist, asking again, “Am I going to die?”

Levi stared down at him. “I doubt it. You were shot in the arm.”

He pointed at his chest. “Then why does it feel like my heart’s not working right?”

“Probably because you’re in shock.”

“Can I die from  _ that _ ?”

“Probably not before the police show up.” Levi needed to get out of there before then. He pulled his hand free.

“Wait.”

“I can’t.”

“No, I mean…” The guy sounded close to tears. He thumped his head against the back of the counter. He was now officially in tears. “I’m sorry. I pegged you wrong, man. I’m sorry.”

Levi shrugged. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Just take it.”

“Take what?”

The cashier nodded at the open cash register. “You guys were on your way to work, right? If your manager’s like mine, he’ll dock your pay even if the Gods themselves blocked traffic.”

Levi raised a brow. “And what would your manager do if he found out you just gave the money away to some kids that held his fridge doors open?”

He shrugged. “Funny, I can’t seem to give a flying fuck what that asshole would think. I just care that I’m alive. Please. I feel guilty, man. Consider it hazard pay.”

Levi turned from him to the small stacks in the register.  _ Fuck _ .

He didn’t take everything, but enough that he and his friends could treat themselves to a meal better than questionable sandwiches. He bolted out the door just as he began to hear sirens. The bus was two blocks up and his friends had just boarded. Furlan, ever the worrywart, went immediately to the window and spotted Levi. Levi could see him yelling as the bus began to pull away, first to Levi and then at the driver, probably begging him to stop.

The first cop car rounded the corner and, like a lion on the savannah, immediately pursued him. The bus wasn’t stopping. It was probably already late and filled with people from Levi’s shift and other factories just trying to get to work on time. Its brake lights came on and Levi felt a new rush of adrenaline. 

The cop car cut him off, but he hopped the hood. Unfortunately, the driver was quick, especially for a big guy. He had Levi pinned in the street puddle within seconds. Maybe Levi could have gotten out of the hold, but he knew better than to fight an officer. He could raise his head enough to see the people on the bus looking out the window at the scene. He picked out Furlan’s face among them. Levi slowly shook his head. Furlan blinked and moved away, likely to pull Isabel off the driver. The bus began to move.

Mr. Big-Guy’s partner hopped out the other side and joined them. “He moves fast for a runt.”

“Dispatch said a gunshot was heard in this area,” Mr. Big-Guy said. “Go check in the store. I can hold him.”

“It’s always the small ones that need to bring a weapon to compensate.” Levi caught the sneer from Mr. Big-Guy’s partner. “I shouldn’t leave you alone, but he’s got nothing on you, Erwin.”

*******

“Come on, Eren.”

“ _ Fuck _ , Levi. I...can’t. You’re too tight.”

“We’ve only just started.”

“I can’t. Shit. Levi.”

“Hang in there.”

“I’m…sorry.”

Eren tapped Levi’s shoulder and he loosened his grip on Eren’s gi. Levi sat back on Eren’s abdomen. Eren pushed his own hair back and looked everywhere except into Levi’s eyes.

They were in Levi’s basement bedroom, sparring. Or that’s what they were supposed to be doing. Every time they started a round, Levi would immediately get Eren on his back and either mount him and go for a choke, or  grab one of Eren’s limbs and put him into a submission. So far, Eren had lasted about 30 seconds. Levi was actually impressed, but not because of Eren’s skill. Levi had gifted Eren a handful of jiu-jitsu tricks, but allowed himself any and all in his bag/ And he’d been collecting tricks for over a decade. He thought Eren would give up and, yes, he tapped out, but he never wanted to stop resetting, grappling, and ultimately getting pinned. Levi was awed and frustrated at how rubber Eren’s ego was. Part of Levi wanted Eren to give up.

Against Levi’s better, worst, and mediocre judgements, they had become fuck buddies. When Eren joined Erwin’s dojo, Levi had noticed him. He had noticed Eren noticing him, actually. The only thing less subtle than Eren might be a herd of rams in the height of mating season, testosteroning it out in a pottery shop **.**

It had happened before where men, women, people would get friendly with Levi, hang around the dojo, feigning to care about sweeping up after class. When Levi’s dead eyes sniped their hearts, they would leave before their trial membership had ended. Levi owed Erwin, but he wasn’t going to fuck every LaRusso-wannabe to keep membership retention high. But Eren. Fucking Eren had little to do with Eren. The only thing different between Eren and the others who  _ wished _ they had come before was that Eren actually wanted to learn a martial art. For that, Levi had a bit more respect for him.

The real reason he had started fucking Eren was because he was scared. Levi was aiming to fight in the UFC and just over a month ago, he’d had an important fight. After all those years of competing in local tournaments, grappling with men who maybe wanted to go pro or maybe just wanted to challenge themselves, he had finally gotten the chance to fight on Dhalis Zachary’s contender series. The night before that fight, Levi had taken Eren down to his bedroom under the pretence that he would teach him jiu-jitsu. If all Eren had wanted for his body was a workout, Levi would have provided that. Eren’s mouth had betrayed his mind and the rest of his body was just as keen to participate. Eren had been a good distraction, a good pillow to vent his nerves into. And better than chamomile tea for putting him to sleep. Levi, in his rare and frustrating moment of weakness, had let Eren stay the night.

Levi expected that when he cracked an eye open the next morning, Eren would be waiting like a puppy with a bursting bladder. And Levi’s heart was the hydrant. Like a hydrant, Levi’s heart was cool, hard, and ready to blast the average asshole away if he got too curious. But Eren had merely gotten dressed, asked to kiss him goodbye, and after exchanging pleasantries with Levi’s upstairs roommates, Furlan and Isabel, who had just gotten back from a night shift, Eren left. Levi had received a text from Eren a few days later, asking how the fight had gone and if Levi would seriously teach him some jiu-jitsu.

The fight had gone well. Levi would teach Eren jiu - jitsu because, despite Eren being a newbie brat, Levi was getting practice. And, so long as Eren wasn’t asking for more than sex, Levi was content to share his bed and continue to get a good night’s rest before his matches.

“One more round?” Eren asked.

“Fine.”

They started the randori on their knees because Eren was not afraid to charge him head first and Levi was just as comfortable sweeping his leg or tossing his ass, and an injury would be a setback. After bowing, they placed a hand on the other’s shoulder and the other hand under the opposite elbow. They locked eyes. If rage and tenacity were water, Eren could drown even the most iron-lunged of mother fuckers. Levi stared as if Eren was a plain white wall. And when he felt like it, he would kick that shit down.

Eren tugged Levi to the left, trying to topple him. He tried to the right. He tried for feigning to the right and lurching to the left. When Levi felt Eren’s body begin to shift again, Levi threw Eren over his hip and climbed on top of him. Eren tried grabbing Levi’s arms, but he kept throwing them off with a swimming motion. It didn’t take much energy on Levi’s part, but for Eren, pushing back against gravity and Levi, he was panting in moments. Levi debated how he wanted to end it. Maybe an armbar? Maybe an americana? Eren surprised him by actually managing to grab his arm. The joy in Eren’s eyes when he had  _ finally _ accomplished  _ something _ was burning bright. Fuck it, he’d choke Eren out again.

***

Eren slipped his shoes on by the door while Levi put away the mats they’d spent the last hour rolling around on in the basement below.

“Hey Eren. How’s it going?”

Eren looked up from his laces. Furlan was leaning against the wall and nursing a mug of hot chocolate.

“Hey Furlan. It’s going great. This summer flew by, but I made some money and more memories. Classes are already heavy again, but Mikasa and Armin are tag teaming to help keep my grades in check. How about you?”

Furlan smiled. “Sounds like you’re doing alright. I’m fine, so long as I can get enough sleep and maybe give the neighbour’s dog a couple pets.”

“Did you have a dog growing up?”

“Nah, not unless you count the stray I gave a Pop-Tart to once a week.”

“I only ever had fish,” Eren said.

“Oh yeah?”

Eren scratched the back of his head. “I was a dumbass and accidentally killed most of them, so I never progressed to hamsters. I shouldn’t even be trusted with plants.”

Furlan shook his head. “Maybe Levi shouldn’t be teaching you how to fight then. Sounds like you’re already a proficient killer.”

Eren could feel his ears reddening. He was actually more embarrassed about the dead fish than his jiu-jitsu skills. They were living creatures, entrusted to his care for 99 cents a fish, and dependent on his inattentive hands to shake a couple pellets into the tank daily. He had let them down, and they had gone belly up.

“You’ve got a long way to go.” Levi stood at the top of the stairs behind Eren. 

“Oh, right.” Eren opened the door. “I was just about to leave.”

“I meant you have a long way to go before you’re even considered a nuisance during training.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“But since you mentioned it, get the hell out.”

Eren laughed nervously. Furlan chuckled earnestly. Levi just stared.

“Right, I’ll see you at the dojo later this week.” Eren waved goodbye and exited. 

He walked down the drive and got into his car. He closed the door, took a moment to clip his seatbelt, adjust his rearview mirror, and then thumped his head off the steering wheel. He let out a throaty sigh.

_ What am I  _ doing _? _ Eren ground his brow into the cool faux leather of the wheel.  _ What am  _ I _ doing? Probably not what I should be doing since I’m banging my face into my car. _

Eren liked Levi. That was obvious to everyone in the house he had just left. He liked fighting too and he had never had a problem with getting his ass kicked. He was used to bigger men than Levi, men that he loathed for everything from their radical political stances to emotional immaturity, beating him when he picked a fight. What he wasn’t used to was not blurting out exactly how he felt, regardless of consequences, to whomever his heart was currently beating for. Maybe he was holding back the ‘us’ talk because he thought the answer would be no. Maybe he was holding back because Levi was already so many things to him: sparring partner, senior belt at their shared dojo, teacher. Maybe he thought those things were incompatible with being intimate. _But we ARE intimate_. Eren banged his head once more and accidentally honked the horn, making him jump and bang his head against the window. “Fuck me. I gotta get the hell out of here.”

He superstitiously looked at the main window of the house to see if Furlan or Levi were staring before starting the car and driving off.

***

Inside the house, Levi was intending to go back down to his bedroom to do an actual workout, but Furlan was in a talkative mood.

“So, Eren.” Furlan craned his neck to look out the front window and watch Eren walk away.

Levi let out a slow breath. “What about Eren?”

“I was actually going to ask you that.” When Levi was silent, Furlan said, “I like Eren.”

“You did mention you had a thing for strays.”

“Oh, fuck you, Levi.” Furlan laughed. “Eren’s not a stray or a dog. He’s not coming over here just to screw. I thought maybe  _ you _ were bringing him over just for that, but that’s not the case.”

Levi gave Furlan a deadly side-eye glance. The problem with old friends is that such manoeuvres seldom worked because they know there’s no real danger of a follow-through. “How would you know?”

Furlan cleared his throat. “Because you keep the vents open and sound travels.”

“I live in the basement. It's cold. If I close the vents, it gets colder.”

Furlan put a hand to his face, probably to hide the blush creeping on. “Whatever. I just wanted to know how I should treat Eren.”

“Like a normal fucking human being.”

“I mean, should I talk to him or just pretend he’s not here?”

Levi raised a brow. “Ignoring people is rude, but you do you.”

Furlan sighed and had to shove his fist in his mouth to stop it from turning into a yawn. “I’m just trying to figure out where the boundaries are so that I don’t trip over them. Most people you bring over, well I don’t really know that they’re here. But I also know you’ve got other things on your plate and don’t want anything serious.”

“You’re not wrong, and if Eren were to ask for more, I’d end things. I don’t have the time or energy to attend Jaeger family picnics.” Levi stared Furlan down. He didn’t see why Furlan cared. Furlan wasn’t into men, so it wasn’t jealousy. Nor was he waiting at the table for Levi to toss him leftovers. Furlan wasn’t the nosy type either. Isabel, maybe. Furlan, only when he was concerned.

The last time he’d pressed Levi for information was about five years ago when Levi had brought his first man home. He’d only brought women home until then. He had discussed not giving a fuck about which gender he fucked with Isabel because Isabel was a chatterbox sponge, drawing words out of others with her own. And Levi didn’t particularly care who knew what about his sexuality. Eventually, word got around, probably via the vents, that Levi had brought a man over. And when Furlan casually asked Isabel over waffles at Sawney’s Diner if she had noticed, Isabel had said, “Sounds about right. I figured he’d get bored of Hange’s strap-ons eventually. Pass the maple syrup?”

Furlan later approached Levi in their living room, his face already red and eyes fixed to the floor. He began muttering something about not caring what people did or who, and that if he were ever to have a friend, a male friend, that enjoyed the company of men, they’d still be bros regardless. Levi let him go on this clumsy speech, not moving a muscle in his face, for nearly five minutes. It was hilarious to watch the words bleed out of Furlan. When it was obvious that Furlan was running out of ways to say “Do you bang guys? If so, I wouldn’t hate you” without actually saying those words, Levi stood up and said, “Furlan, I sometimes fuck men.”

“Oh. Oh, really? That’s cool.”

“Just thought you ought to know.”

“Okay. Thanks, man. I’m glad you could trust me with that.”

“I never doubted I couldn’t, so I didn’t bother saying.”

Furlan had nodded and awkwardly clapped Levi on the shoulder. Levi raised a brow, they shared a look, then a laugh, and were back to cursing each other out as only best friends could.

Furlan wasn’t as awkward about talking about Eren, but Levi still couldn’t pinpoint what angle he was firing from.

Furlan said, “I just mean, would it be inappropriate if I asked him to come along with us for my birthday?”

Levi hadn't been expecting that. “Why? Do you want him to come along?”

“Between shift work and not having the money to go out, my social life isn’t exactly booming.” Furlan made a face like his cocoa was dishwater. Yeah, Levi felt the same about working at the car plant. “But I like Eren okay and I think he’d be a cool guy to hang around with. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders”

A car’s horn gave a short honk, though neither of them knew the cause was Eren’s good head rolling off his miserable shoulders.

Levi shrugged. “I don’t care, Furlan. If you want to be friends with Eren, that’s your call to make. But you have to make it clear that  _ you _ are asking him, not me.”

Furlan nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

Levi waved him off and made his way back downstairs where he could be with his dumbbells, punching bag, and other things that did not initiate awkward conversations.

*******

Eren slid his key into his apartment’s doorknob like he was performing open-heart surgery on a hamster. When he pushed open the door, he actually tugged up on the knob, thinking he could lift the door up a hair higher to whisper instead of gently whoosh across the floor. He peered in and didn’t see anyone, so he figured Armin and Mikasa were in their rooms. Just as softly, he shut the door, slipped off his shoes, and crept towards his own room.

“Eren.”

Eren jumped and raised his hands in self-defence.

Mikasa was standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a hoodie and holding a glass of tomato juice.

“Gods, you’re quiet.” Eren sighed.

“I wasn’t trying to be, but I think you were. Why is that? Actually, hold on. I’ll get Armin.”

“What? No. Let him study.”

Mikasa walked past him to bang her fist once on Armin’s door. Eren could appreciate the amount of power she possessed. He wasn’t sure their landlords would feel the same if they could see the door shake in its frame.

Armin popped his head out, with one earbud still in his ear. “What is it?”

“Eren’s sneaking around,” Mikasa said.

Armin furrowed his brows. “Why are you doing that?”

Eren slapped a hand to his face and, through grinding teeth, said, “Because I didn’t do it.”

“Just to clarify,” Mikasa said, “you mean you didn’t have sex with Levi today?”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, we didn’t, but you know I probably would tell because I’m an oversharer. Which, by the way, please tell me if I ever tell too much.”

Mikasa’s face fixed in a scowl. She turned to Armin who merely shrugged under her cold hostility. Eren’s maniacal pity train was derailed at their station. “What’s up with you guys? Why do you care if I have sex with Levi or not?”

Mikasa opened her mouth to answer, but Armin said, “Eren, when Mikasa caught you sneaking around and you said you ‘didn’t do it’, you mean that you still haven’t spoken to Levi about how you feel, right?”

Mikasa’s scowl found Eren’s face. He fought the urge to run. “Eren, it’s been months.”

“Well, jumping in right away was a bit much, right? One one-night-stand doesn’t necessarily mean I should throw my heart at him, right?” Neither of them looked convinced. Eren said with increased defensiveness, “You told me not to be a creep about things.”

“Eren, it’s been  _ months _ , and every bar crawl, every club night, every trivia Wednesday when you’ve had a drink, we’ve had to listen to you talk about Levi.”

“Like I said, if I overshare or if I’m too emotionally taxing, just let me know—”

“Eren.”

“Would you stop saying my name?” He blurted out. “I _am_ listening.”

Armin took the other earbud out of his ear. “The issue is actually that you’re not talking, which isn’t like you. Direct communication is one of your best traits, even if your words are a bit much.”

“Or muddled,” Mikasa added.

“Thanks, guys,” Eren said through clenched teeth. He didn’t have his steering wheel with him, so he sufficed by grinding his knuckles into his forehead. “I hear you and what you’re saying is valid. I do usually say what I feel and I haven’t been.”

“Why, Er—why?” Mikasa asked.

“I don’t know.” Eren crouched on the floor, his head in his hands. He was aware of Mikasa and Armin sharing a look, but they didn’t verbally judge him. Or maybe it was more so they judged that his drama had more legitimacy than usual. They sat on the floor of the hallway, on either side of him. Mikasa sat as still and steady as a monk on a mountaintop. Eren could hear the tinny sounds of Armin’s music coming from his headphones before he shut off the K-Pop.

Finally, Eren said, “I suppose I haven’t said anything to Levi because I think I know what his answer would be, and it’s not the answer I want to hear.”

“How do you know for certain without asking?” Mikasa asked.

“A gut feeling.”

“Your gut has been used as a punching bag since we grew out of velcro shoes,” Armin said, smiling probably as some memory of bullies forcing Eren to eat sand when he tried to drag them off him. “Maybe it’s on the fritz.”

“I wish that were true. I hope it is. I doubt it though since he’s so focused on fighting.”

Mikasa looked confused. “I do martial arts, hold down a part-time job, and am attending college full-time. I’d still make time for a relationship if the opportunity came my way.”

“I thought I had mentioned he’s aiming to go pro.”

Armin fidgeted with his earbud wires. “I think you’ve mainly talked about his eyes, height, and attitude. And the fact that he makes you shower each time you have sex.”

Eren turned on Armin, who had surreptitiously slipped a bud back in and cranked the volume on his phone, and said, “Having safe and clean sex is not only healthy, but normal.”

Mikasa grabbed Eren’s arm so fiercely, he bit his tongue chewing Armin out. “Eren, is your Levi, Levi Ackerman? Humanity’s Strongest?”

“Yeah—wait, hold on. Humanity’s  _ what _ ? **”**

Mikasa shoved her phone in Eren’s face. She must have owl-like eyes because he had to squint because the brightness was so low. Eventually, he realized he was looking at a Twitter page. He was looking at Levi’s Twitter page. When the hell did Levi get Twitter? Eren snatched the phone from her and scrolled. There were some pictures of him, some clips from matches he had fought, and several tweets with the hashtag #HumanitysStrongest.

“‘The only thing shorter than me is the amount of time it’ll take for me to pin you’. There’s no way Levi wrote that. He’d snap his phone in half tapping something that cheesy out.” Eren passed her phone back. “But, yeah, that’s my—no, he’s his  _ own _ man, but that is the Levi. Why are you following him on Twitter?”

“Because he’s a hyped newcomer. Because he’s an amazing fighter. Because there’s a slight chance we’re distantly related.”

“Okay, what’s with this Humanity’s Strongest thing?” Eren couldn’t imagine Levi ever referring to himself as that. 

“It’s a nickname. A lot of fighters have one. Y’know, like Reiner The Big Guy Braun, Zeke The Beast--even Annie has one. The Lioness. Here.” Mikasa shoved the phone back under his nose to show him a clip. The person holding the camera appeared to be standing in Levi’s corner during a break in the fight. Eren recognized Furlan, who was passing Levi water, and there was another man, tall, lean, and possibly even meaner looking than Levi muttering in Levi’s ear.

The person holding the camera yelled out, “Whooo! Levi.  _ Levi _ . Promise me something, big brother.”

Even through the low light of Mikasa’s phone, Levi’s dead gaze frosted Eren’s blood. “No.”

Based on the eye-rolls and chesty sighs Levi gave when he talked about his other roommate, Eren guessed the woman filming was Isabel. “Just if you can’t pin him. Make. Him. Bleed.”

The ref called the fighters back. Levi had enough time to shoot her one more glare.

“WHOO! Humanity’s Strongest, called to the front lines again! Remember, make it rain. I wanna see teeth flying like rice at a wedding.”

“For fuck sake’s, kid,” the tall man said. “Are you running his social media or filming a horror flick?”

The video ended. Mikasa quickly said, “Do you want to see him punch someone in the face?”

“I think I’m good.”

Mikasa paused. “Do you want to see  _ him _ get punched—”

“NO. Why would I want to see the guy I’m falling for get decked?”

Mikasa shrugged.

Armin cleared his throat. “So, Eren, you didn’t know that Levi had already broken into the UFC?”

Eren stared at the floorboards, which had been pressed by the feet of many young minds in need of student housing and yet absorbed none of their wisdom and all of their spilled alcohol. “No, he never mentioned it.”


	2. I am Jack’s Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday drinks and bathroom brawls. Coming out and holes in walls. Making friends and foes unstable. RIP the coffee table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Violence against women and mild homophobic remarks (with spicy comebacks).

She was in her kitchen, her hair in a bun that was sloppy in purposeful places, and her apron neat despite the amount of food she was cooking. She sweetly hummed a song that had been playing in the grocery store she was at that morning. The young women had been blasting it as they mopped the floors and restocked the shelves. 

She trimmed the crust of the apple pie she was making. In her late 40’s now, her mind must not be as sharp as it used to be because she could only remember parts of the chorus. Besides, the young ladies hadn’t realized anyone was in the store and sent the phone that was blasting the tunes skittering across the floor when they saw her. She had gracefully bent down in her pastel heels, her vintage skirt billowing around her as she picked up the phone.

As she peeled the apples, she sang under her breath, “…something something, down in the salon chair…”

The ladies had apologized profusely for either inappropriately blasting music or blasting inappropriate music. They were talking so fast and again, her mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, though certainly not dull. She had counted fewer swear words in the song than what she had said already that morning, and it wasn’t even 8:00 am. She did have a question though. The woman shrunk before her, likely thinking the question was going to be “Where is your manager?”

She sliced the apples. “Hm, hm…out of my hair…”

“Young ladies, I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask what this song is called?”

They stared at her as if she’d glued her false lashes to her eyebrows, though she was certain her makeup was flawless. She’d retouched her lipstick just before getting out of the car.

The young women stared at each other, clutching their mops.

She finished crisscrossing the lattice crust and stood back to admire her handiwork. She sighed to herself. “Truth hurts…”

The doorbell rang. She reflexively looked up and then at the clock on the wall. It was still several hours too early before her husband would be home, not that he would ring the doorbell anyway. Where was her mind these days? Oh well.

She quickly rinsed her hands, wiped down her spotless apron, and darted to the door. Whoever it was, rang the doorbell twice more before she got there. She felt a twinge of frustration, but swallowed it. Perhaps it was a delivery man on a time crunch. She opened the door and was certain almost immediately that the young man on her doorstep was no UPS driver. He was young, maybe a couple years older than her son, so mid-20’s. She couldn’t help her mouth falling open slightly, but only for a moment. She had been raised to be mannered.

The young man was dressed nicely in clothes that were costlier than her own, but his face was surely handsome somewhere beneath the purple swelling and split lips.

“How can I help you?” She asked and meant it. Perhaps he’d been in an accident. She did see a car parked haphazardly across the bottom of her driveway. She didn’t know vehicle makes and models well, but she knew that one was expensive. It was still running, with the driver door open. He must have gotten out in a hurry or planned to exit swiftly.

“Is he home?” The man’s voice was rough, like he’d been screaming or crying or both recently.

“Who, dear?”

His face twitched. He peered over her shoulder, which was really just him looking ahead. He was tall. Actually, he was familiar somehow. He adjusted his glasses and turned away, shaking his head.

She was in her house of 15-ish years, in a neighbourhood whose biggest crimes were unsightly pink flamingo lawn ornaments. She felt concern only for the young man in distress on her front porch. She felt safe enough to call him back.

“Honey, how can I help you?”

He turned back around and she felt the first flutterings of danger when she saw the rage in his eyes. “How can you help? Rose, Maria, and Sina, he likes his dumb bitches.”

She didn’t have time to scream before he pounded the door out of her hands, taking off a fake fingernail or two. He shoved past her into the house. She was frozen against the wall, uncertain of what to do, as the young man screamed her husband’s name while banging through her house. She ducked as he swiped pictures off the hallway walls, sending shards of glass flying.

Her mind came back to her. She needed to get help, but she didn’t have shoes. A small part of her brain told her to just go, but she had been raised to be mannered. She crept up the hallway and grabbed the first pair, her husband’s slippers. Her husband had cold feet and he worried about tripping on the stairs without a decent tread. His slippers were here because he was not. Gods, where was her mind right now?

The young man reappeared. He rounded on her, got his face close enough to hers that she could see the bruises beneath his yellow beard. “Where the fuck is he?”

She tried speaking, honestly, she did. The only thing intelligible she got out was, “Wh-who?”

“My  _ father _ .”

“I don’t—”

He punched the wall beside her head, hard enough that he pierced the drywall. She stifled a scream. Why did she stifle it? _The neighbours might hear. Wouldn’t that be a good thing? I don’t want to trouble them. I don’t want to make a scene._ She couldn’t stifle her tears though. “Please. Please.”

He huffed hard enough that he stirred the loose hairs framing her face, and pushed off the wall. He went back to the living room once more, still calling her husband’s name. She flinched at the sound of more shattering glass. She guessed it was her coffee table.

She went stiff as he stormed past her, out the door. He got in his fancy car, backing it up over their unemptied garbage can, and burned rubber.

At some point between him passing her and squealing down the street, she’d fallen to her knees again. She sobbed as she crawled towards the door to shut it. With the barrier between the world and its unknowns back up, she finally let herself cry with her full lung capacity.

***

“I can’t be drunk. Not yet.” Furlan dabbed at the puddle of beer in front of him with a handful of napkins.

Levi swiped the napkins from him and did a better job mopping up. “Why not?”

“Because it’s still daylight.”

“I don’t think the sun dictates how drunk your ass is.”

“Like an alcoholic vampire. Only able to get drunk when the sun goes down,” Isabel giggled to herself. Like the eggs on a greasy griddle they would eat tomorrow to feel better about what they were doing to themselves now, her smile slipped off her face. “That would suck for day drinking.”

“Fuck vampires. I’d be a werewolf. I fucking  _ love _ dogs.” Furlan screwed up his face as he downed the last of his pint. “I hated this shit though. Levi, what did you make me drink?”

“I can’t remember, but it sounded disgusting.”

“It’s my turn to pick, right?” Eren thumbed through the beer menu, which was actually so large it was called The Booze Bible. The bar they were at looked like a dive, and was a dive, but they boasted having the largest collection of alcohol in all of the greater Paradis region. Eren hadn’t been to any other bar that could dispute these claims. And even if someone did want to dispute them, the patrons of The Hole in the Wall Pub looked like very good disputers.

Eren was no stranger to mixing alcohol with birthday celebrations, and would happily buy friends and the occasional stranger a pint or shot. But the game that Levi’s gang of closest friends played was a dangerous one. The Booze Bible contained decadent drinks possibly crafted by the Gods themselves, as well as flavour combos that amounted to bottled dog shite. Levi and Isabel had gone for the canine-droppings options. Eren wasn’t sure he could be so cruel to someone he didn’t know well.

Furlan pointed at him. “Don’t do me dirty, Jaeger. I invited you along because I thought you were nice.”

Levi laughed through his nose. “That’s your mistake. Eren doesn’t do nice. On his first day at the dojo, he tried rushing me. Remember that?”

Eren patted his stomach. “My gut does. You caught me pretty good.”

Furlan shook his head. “You punched him on his first day? And you came back? Gods, Levi, did you fail kindergarten? Pretty sure that’s where most humans learn that beating someone is not a good way to make friends.”

“He didn’t really punch me,” Eren said. “I more so ran into his fist.”

Isabel parted her bangs and furrowed her brows. “‘Brat bastards deserve a knuckle sandwich delivered straight to their guts’. Right, Levi?”

Eren choked on his drink. It was a pretty good impression.

Levi’s brow twitched. “You want me to show you where I deliver them?”

Isabel beat her chest. “I ain't got a dick, so I don’t fear you.”

Furlan slapped the table, upsetting his (thankfully empty) glass again. “There will be no dick punching on my birthday. Eren, pick something that will drown these two out.”

Levi peered over Eren’s shoulder. “I know there’s one that says it tastes like bacon, but actually tastes like they brewed it in a pig.”

When Eren had felt his phone go off at the start of the week and saw Levi’s name, he had expected a booty call message. When he saw that Levi was asking if Furlan could have his number, he had been curious. When Furlan asked if Eren wanted to have some drinks at the Hole for his birthday, Eren thought that was the strangest come-on he had ever received. A quick “what??” and a couple “lols” later, he was touched that Furlan wanted him around to celebrate his birthday.

A small fraction of Eren’s brain, probably the part that most clearly remembered when humans hooted and flung their dung at each other, wondered what Levi felt about this. About Levi’s childhood friend inviting his friend with benefits out to an intimate gathering. Eren had toed that line—well, kicked pebbles in its direction when he asked Levi if it was okay for him to go along. Levi had enigmatically text back, “Fuck if I care.”

And here Eren was, in the moral conundrum of whether he should order Furlan something that had at least the potential to taste okay or something that might have been fermented in a pig’s colon. Levi and Isabel leaned the way of the pig, but that seemed to be the type of friendship they had; the more they cared about someone, the worse they treated them. Judging by the way Isabel and Furlan defended Eren and ragged on Levi in his name, they seemed to extend an umbrella of courtesy to newcomers. Eren decided to do what he did best; he trusted his gut and didn’t think too hard.

“Can I please get one Hair of the Dog?” Eren said to the waitress. To Furlan he said, “Because you like dogs.”

Furlan laughed. “Thanks, Eren.”

“Wet dog,” Isabel giggled to herself.

“So long as it doesn’t smell like wet dog.” Levi wrinkled his nose.

“I imagine it’ll smell like beer.” Furlan gave him a look. Levi stared back and took a swig of his beer. Eren didn’t miss this interaction and interpreted it as Furlan telling Levi off for taking the piss out of him. 

Eren liked Furlan. He would probably like anyone who would stand up against a 5’3” terror de force. If Furlan was this argumentative over how his birthday guests were treated, he had to wonder what Furlan would think about the names Levi called Eren at the dojo. Or how Levi choked him out during practice seemingly for fun. But he also didn’t know Furlan well enough to admit that Levi calling him “newbie brat bastard” was a nickname he’d proudly accept, and feeling Levi’s arms around him, murderous intent or not, was exciting. Besides, Eren was a strong independent man who didn’t need no man to protect him from the man he definitely had a crush on. At the very least, he didn’t want to put them in the awkward position of Furlan defending Eren from his best friend.

Levi raised his head when the bar door opened. Eren also recognized the man coming in, though he didn’t know his name. He was the same man Eren had seen in the clip Mikasa had shown him. Probably 20 years their senior, thin, wiry, and mean eyes. 

“What the fuck is Kenny doing here?” Levi asked Furlan.

“Because it’s my fucking birthday.”

Kenny headed straight for the bar, nodding Levi over. Furlan tagged along as well.

“Who’s Kenny?” Eren asked Isabel as she attempted to make a house of cards out of the cardboard coasters. Eren helped her hold the base steady as it kept folding.

“What  _ isn’t _ he?” She carefully stacked a second level. “He’s Levi’s uncle and teacher. He’s been teaching Levi jiu-jitsu since he took him in when he was like six. But he’s also this old-timey fighter, so he coaches Levi. He also taught us all how to drink whiskey.”

Eren nodded and tried not to look surprised. He didn’t know that Levi’s uncle had raised him or that he had taught him how to fight. It made sense since Erwin only taught them a striking martial art and nothing on groundwork. For the record, he also didn’t know he had taught Levi how to drink a dram, but that wasn’t exactly the first question he wondered about people. Isabel was perhaps drunk or saw personal boundaries as a fence that was meant to be hopped because she said, “Levi doesn’t talk much about himself, right?”

Eren had feared this. He didn’t know what Levi’s roommates knew about him and Levi, and what Levi wanted them to know. And the worst thing was Eren wanted to say “Gods, I know, right? It’s like trying to draw water out of a brick wall in the middle of a desert” and chat about Levi.  _ Boundaries _ , Eren reminded himself. “He’s pretty introverted.”

“Yeah, he’s a little bitch,” Isabel said affectionately. The coasters tumbled, a couple of them rolling off the table and disappearing into the ether of spilled drinks and stale peanuts. She turned to Eren. “Are you guys just fuck buddies or did he bring you along as a date tonight?”

Eren almost tipped off his stool and went the way of the coasters. He wasn’t the only one who needed to remember that boundaries existed. “Furlan. It was Furlan who invited me out tonight.”

“That’s lucky for Furlan, but too bad for Levi. Furlan needs more friends or maybe an animal. I tried to tame this raccoon for him once, but he was like ‘They carry rabies and will shit on the floor’. Actually, Levi said that last bit. But, ugh, Levi.” She slumped onto the table and regarded the last coaster with sorrow. “I’d like to see him with someone who cares about his well being as much as they do his dick.”

“Yeah, totally.” Eren wasn’t sure what to say, but he suddenly felt sympathy for anyone who had to deal with his burning line of inquiry when discussing societal issues. Isabel was happy to continue to fill the gap in conversation.

“But he’s all like ‘I must repay my debts and I can’t be distracted’. Y’know he doesn’t actually have debt, right? He just thinks he owes people who helped him out, like Kenny. Kenny’s blood and even if Levi’s mom had been around, he still probably would have taught Levi how to kick ass.” She pulled on her pigtails and Eren wondered if he looked this deranged when he was frustrated.

“Should you really be telling me this?” Eren chuckled nervously. “It seems kind of personal and, though I appreciate you trying to—I actually don’t know what you’re trying to do. Do you want me to get together with him or something?”

She slapped her hand down, sloshing the last bits of swill in her glass. “I’m  _ venting _ , Eren. Venting to someone who’s probably just as fucked off with Levi, y’know? Levi’s all aloof and mysterious, like he thinks it makes him cool. And it  _ does.  _ But it also makes me and Furlan concerned. Like, is he happy? Is he depressed? Does he need a hug?”

Eren stared at the tabletop. “At the very least, he’s got some people in his corner who care about him. And you can’t force someone to open up or change.”

“We are  _ literally  _ in his corner and I’d totally deck any asshole who tries to pull something on him. But because we are in his corner, he thinks he owes us too. That’s fucked up, right? You’re  _ supposed _ to annoy your friends.”

Eren nodded. “I hope that’s true, otherwise my friends must hate me.”

“Enough about Levi’s moody ass.” Isabel leaned across the table. When she hooked her eyes on him, he could feel his heart being reeled in to bump against his ribs. “What’s your trauma, Eren?”

“I wouldn’t say trauma. I mean, everyone has their issues, and regardless of whether you’re the wealthiest or most disenfranchised, your concerns and problems are valid.”

Isabel raised a brow. “Yeah, but, like, what’s your deal?”

“I guess it’s control.” Eren looked at his calloused knuckles. He’d been toughening them on foam mats at the dojo lately, but before he’d been hardening them on other people’s faces. “I get into a lot of fights with strangers, and I thought since I was fighting for justice, it was justified.”

“It probably was.”

“Nah, just because my words failed to change someone’s mind, it doesn’t mean my fist should get to rearrange their brains.” Eren ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “That and I lost every fight. My friend, Mikasa, always finished them.”

Eren’s stomach was jerked into the table’s edge as Isabel grabbed him by the lapels. “You have a badass lady friend? I’ve been stuck with all boys for the past five years. Even the raccoon’s a male. Or I think he is. I thought he was pregnant at one point, but I think I just gave him too many carbs.”

The others returned to see Isabel nose to nose with Eren. Levi raised a brow and Furlan looked tired or maybe drunk. 

Kenny placed several glasses of whiskey on the table and plopped himself down across from Eren. He looked Eren over and Eren was reminded of a time when he was young and wanted to watch a scary movie. His dad wasn’t sure he was ready, but his mom had shrugged, pushed the tape in, and said he’d probably have nightmares for a week and then forget about it. He had nightmares for about two months straight and still was not a fan of Jack Skellington. The point was, Eren thought he’d be ready to look the Grim Reaper in the eyes after getting used to Levi’s dead gaze. But Kenny must be the OG deadeye. 

“You brats multiplying? I swear this one’s new,” Kenny said. He did a quick count of the glasses he’d just put down. “Levi, did that kid from a couple weeks ago do lasting damage to your noggin? Couldn’t you tell that we’re a glass shy? **”**

Levi and Furlan sat down. “You’re the one with brain damage, though I don’t know if it’s from the times you got KO’ed or the alcohol. I told you Eren drove us here and he can’t stay too long.”

Kenny looked him over again. Eren felt like a fish that noticed the light he’d been following had faded, but couldn’t figure out why until he looked up at the many rows of teeth around him. “From the way you talked about him, I thought Eren was a girl.”

Furlan’s whiskey was returned to his glass via his nose.

Levi slammed his glass back down. “What the hell is wrong with you? All I said was I met Eren at Erwin’s dojo and we sometimes practice jiu-jitsu at my place.”

“Which is practically a fucking ballad with how little you usually say.”

Eren couldn’t be sure because the lighting was low, but he thought he might have seen a hint of blush on Levi’s cheeks. Even if Levi wasn’t blushing, Eren sure was now.

“Anyway,” Kenny held up his glass, “here’s to Furlan, surviving another year and hopefully getting at least one more.”

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” Furlan said. “But seriously, thanks for being here. And for the whiskey.”

Kenny tipped his hat. “Well, if you can’t have love, you can at least have premium alcohol.”

Watching Kenny, Eren could see the influence he had on Levi. Both were cagey, nihilistic, and had knives for tongues. No wonder Levi wasn’t exactly a font of warmth and kind words. Eren was curious why Kenny had raised Levi. What had happened to Levi’s parents?  _ It’s not your business _ , Eren told himself,  _ and it’s not uncommon or a spectacle for someone other than the biological parents to raise a kid _ . Although, and Eren chided himself for making assumptions, Kenny didn’t strike him as the type to want kids. His and Levi’s cussing each other out and bickering read more like brothers. Eren finished off his one and only drink, and smiled as Kenny got another round.

***

After another hour of banter and increasingly embarrassing stories for everyone, Eren had to go. He excused himself to the restroom first. He wished he could stay longer, but he promised his mother he’d come home for dinner tonight, and the hands of the clock were beginning to feel like they belonged to a gauge on a nuclear power reactor. 

He stood before the urinal, chuckling about the last story Furlan had told. He and Levi had come home to Kenny’s place after school and found Kenny, a man supposedly with multiple black belts and the mind of a fox, half-naked and wielding a broom as he attempted to chase a bat out of the house. He’d gotten it out after chucking the blender through the window.

Eren noticed a group of men come into the restroom, but he hadn’t thought anything of it until he realized they were staring at him. Eren finished up and turned around. He stopped himself from using stronger words. “Can I help you?”

“You don’t remember us?” Asked a guy who looked like the missing link between humans and apes. 

Eren was going to shake his head, but their gorilla-esque forms, coupled with the bar bathroom setting brought the memory of Mikasa tossing these guys out of a college-campus bar. “You guys were slut shaming Professor Zoe and we fought in the bathroom. That was almost a year ago.”

“Yeah, well, Kyle here got put on academic probation because some little bitch emailed the dean about what happened.” Eren didn’t want to stereotype him, but Kyle looked like the most he could major in was rolling joints. Eren knew that Armin had been the one to report the incident, but he wouldn’t tell these guys that.

“Actually, Kyle got himself put on academic probation with his words and actions. Hopefully you learned to respect women and not pick fights in campus bars.” Eren tried to head for the sink but Kyle did a very good impression of a brick wall.

“We’re not on campus now, so I’d say the lesson sunk in. And bonus marks, your girlfriend isn’t here to help you. It’s time to man up, pussy.”

Eren gritted his teeth. “I find your language to be very toxic and disrespectful towards women. And Mikasa isn’t my girlfriend. She’s a strong, independent woman who is kind enough to help me when I’m being a dumbass.”

Kyle scratched his head. “I can’t tell if you’re pussywhipped or gay. What do you think, Chad?” 

Chad grunted.

Eren threw his hands up. “Of course you’re misogynistic. Of course you’re homophobic. But you’re also named  _ Chad _ ?”

“You disrespecting my bro’s name?” The third guy asked.

Chad slapped his bro’s chest. “Thanks for having my back, Ched. I love you man, no homo.”

Eren let a long breath out his nose. He remembered why he had felt the urge to throw down with these guys and honestly, he felt that urge again. But Sensei Erwin’s stern eyebrows kept popping into his vision. He should be deescalating the situation, which meant not driving his forehead into Chad’s nose.

“You guys clearly don’t understand that what you’re saying is wrong. I’m done trying to explain what should be common sense to you. I’m going to wash my hands and, if you apologize, I won’t make another report to the dean’s office.”

Chad or Ched, Eren honestly couldn’t tell them apart, gave his response in the form of an uppercut to Eren’s midsection. Eren had learned enough karate to get out of the way of serious harm, but the concrete, graffitied bathroom wall reminded him he had nowhere else to back up. Eren raised his hands, ready to catch or block whatever came next. But what came next was the bathroom door flying open so hard that it bounced off the wall and Levi strolling in.

“Don’t go locking public bathroom doors,” Levi scolded the Broly Trinity. “What if someone really had to take a shit?” 

Levi, not quite sober, swung his gaze in Eren’s direction. “You okay?”

“Yeah, so far.” He actually had felt calmer than he normally would have. Usually he’d rip and rage, but he was relaxed and ready. If nothing else, his lack of wrath would do wonders for his digestive system. 

Eren’s attackers had gone rigid, likely remembering how Mikasa had entered the bathroom much the same way and tossed them on the sidewalk. When they had to lower their gazes a couple inches to look Levi in the eyes, they laughed. Maria, Rose, and Sina, did they ever sound like hooting primates chattering about bananas. Eren felt the familiar hand of rage twisting his guts.

“You traded in the girl for this dwarf?” Kyle asked.

“Ableist asshole,” Eren spat. He clenched his fists. If Levi hadn’t moved, Eren would have fallen into his old habits. Levi got in Ched’s face. 

Ched pushed his forehead against Levi’s. “What’s with you, Bilbo?”

“Bilbo is a hobbit, shithead. It’s in the goddamned movie title.” Levi thrust up with his head. Eren thought Ched’s head sounded like a coconut being tapped.

Ched tried to grab Levi, but through some footwork magic that Eren’s eyes couldn’t keep up with, Ched ended upon his knees with his face in the urinal. Levi stiffled a hiccup. “Guess I’ll be calling you pisshead now.”

Eren would have laughed if the joke wasn’t so terrible.

The other two hesitated. Somehow, this small man was worse than Mikasa. 

Any thoughts of rushing Levi ended when the door opened for a second time and Kenny walked in. He noticed the man with his face in the urinal. He looked at Levi and sighed. “Why?”

“He called me a dwarf,” Levi said. “Possibly a hobbit. I’m a bit unclear on the specifics, but I know he’s an asshole.”

Kenny nodded. “Okay, well, the nachos showed up and Furlan is waiting for you before he digs in. Let’s just wrap this up and get back to everyday life.”

Kyle and Chad were whispering to one another. Kenny whistled loudly. “Maybe get your friend’s face out of the place where people pee, huh?”

Kyle asked, nervously, “Are you Kenny The Ripper?”

“Yeah,” Kenny scratched his forehead, “I’m surprised anyone under 30 knows that.”

“Dude, I’m such a big fan. You hold the record for the longest reigning Attack Class title. And your fight against Rod the Bod. Man, I don’t think there’s been more bad blood in the octagon since then.”

“That’s nice, but you want a real show, then you’ll watch my nephew.” Kenny walked over to Levi and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Kyle paled. Ched gurgled something in the urinal’s stream. “Get your friend out of there, go pay your bill with a tip large enough to cover the damages done to the door, and haul ass.”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle and Chad hooked Ched’s arms around his shoulders and made to leave. Kyle paused as he passed Kenny. “Could I get your autograph?”

“Could you—are you serious? Even if you hadn’t insulted my nephew and his friend, what would you expect me to do? Fish a turd out of the porcelain inkwell and sign some toilet paper? Get the fuck out of here.”

In 20 seconds, there was significantly less stupid occupying the Hole’s bathroom. Kenny rubbed his brow. “Levi, did they film you?”

“No, but they would seem the type to film themselves committing a crime and posting it online.” Levi turned to Eren. He swayed slightly, which Eren somehow found endearing. He was tipsy, but the alcohol hadn’t entirely drowned out the fact Eren had been gone for too long. For a second time, Levi asked, “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah.” Eren rubbed his stomach. “How did you know I needed backup?”

Levi nodded to the room beyond the bathroom door. “I saw them eyeing you and followed to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid.”

“And I followed you because you had that Ackerman gleam in your eyes,” Kenny said, “which is usually followed by the Ackerman fist getting deployed. They didn’t get your ribs, eh Eren?”

“No, I’ve had worse.” Eren smiled at Levi. “Your bad kindergarten etiquette hurt more.” 

Levi snorted and, much to both Eren and Kenny’s disbelief, ruffled his Eren’s. “Stupid brat idiot bastard.”

Eren thought it best to leave before the night got stranger. He wasn’t sure what Kenny knew about his and Levi’s relationship or even Levi’s sexuality. As much as he’d love to support Levi, he was late and the bathroom held no magic for him now that his bladder was empty. “I should head out. My parents are probably sitting at the dinner table waiting for me.”

“Whatever, Eren,” Levi shrugged, now coming off too casual. “I’m sure Furlan really appreciated you coming out.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you later.” To Kenny he offered a hand. “It was nice meeting you, sir.”

Kenny shook with rough hands, but a gentler grip than Eren expected. “Same here, kiddo.”

After the bathroom door swung closed, there were a good couple beats of silence. Kenny made to speak, but Levi said, “I gotta take a piss.”

Kenny shrugged. The cunning bastard waited for Levi to be invested in the urinal before leaning up against the wall and saying, “Speaking of people coming out…”

“I said I had to take a piss, not take the piss out of me.” Levi shook himself, zipped up, and walked over to the sink. He wasn’t drunk enough for this conversation. He turned on the taps and wrinkled his nose. “Eren didn’t wash his hands. Disgusting.”

Kenny followed him. “Levi, I get that I’m not exactly father figure of the year and I generally don’t ask if you’re not telling me something, but did you bring Eren along as…Gods, what am I saying—as like a date or boyfriend? Or, what is it you call them, a romantic partner?”

“No, I did not. Furlan invited him.” Levi dried his hands. It had been a while since he’d had a drink thanks to his tight fighting schedule. Alcohol made him care less about everything except basic hygiene practices. Stupid Eren and his existing near Levi tonight. Levi just wanted a good screw, for sure. Just sex. Levi didn’t care. He didn’t care so much that he decided to egg Kenny on and have this uncomfortable conversation. That would show Eren, Kenny, and any gods that haunted this dive’s bathroom just how much he didn’t give a shit. “And even if I did, would it matter? Would you care?”

“Of course I’d care.” Kenny crossed his arms and immediately unfolded them to flail. “Not about that. I mean, I’d care that you had found somebody. I mean, it’s been a while. I think Hanje was the last one. But you still see her—anyway, not my business. Gods...”

“Huh.” Levi didn’t know what to say. He thought about just walking out the door because alcohol made him care less about social decorum and more about sitting down. But poor Kenny. The old fox was trying.

“Fuck. Okay.” Kenny let out a deep sigh. “I admit, I don’t know what I’m doing. I never have when it comes to this parenting crap. And I don’t always understand what you and your friends are talking about, but you can talk to me. Just…”

Levi turned away from trying to focus on his own eyes in the mirror. “What?”

“Just I don’t know what the fighting world is like these days. If fighters have, what’s the lingo, gotten woke?” Kenny looked pained saying as much. “But, back in my day, if you were different, you got used as a punching bag. And you could forget about getting contracts.”

“I’m not entering the ring with a rainbow flag on my back, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Levi liked to tease Kenny for being old, but he rarely actually thought of him that way. If Kenny was called back to the ring to fight today, he’d at the very least make the fight interesting if not squeeze out one last victory against a guy 20 years his junior. Tonight, leaning against the bathroom wall, the lines in his face looked deep and the hairs on his chin greyer than usual. Levi’s chest felt tight at the whiskey-infused thought that one day Kenny would not be here to rag on.

“Look, kiddo. A lot of these guys are coming from bigger gyms with more resources and fighters than I have wits left. I’ll back you up, so long as my body holds out. We’re blood and all that.” Kenny ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Just have a better life than me and your mother. And whatever Eren is to you, he’s a good kid. I wouldn’t mind seeing him around more.”

“I’m not dating Eren.” Levi softened. “We’re just casual. I don’t have the time for a committed relationship.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I just didn’t know what to make of him. Anyway, we’ll talk when we’re both a bit more sober about your next match.” He was back in the familiar territory of being coach Kenny.

Kenny opened the door. He paused. Or maybe he wasn’t quite done trying on these new sensitive shoes. He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned around. “We don’t just have to talk about fighting either. We can talk about whatever. Just know that I give a shit.”

Levi leaned over the sink and watched the residual soap bubbles pop around the drain. “I know.”

*******

It was barely after 7:00 pm when Eren pulled into his parents’ driveway, but his stomach was roiling with nervous energy from his time at the bar and for the time coming soon. He’d said he’d be home by 6:30 pm, but he’d been delayed by those Chads or Cheds, or whatever in the bar. If there was one thing from their German heritage that they held onto it was that if you weren’t ten minutes early, you were late. And if you were half an hour later than expected, you were a disappointment.

Eren turned his car’s lights off and looked at the door to the house. Usually his parents came running out to greet him or, when the weather was colder, stared out at him with the door open. But it stayed shut. Eren got his overnight bag from the trunk and made his way inside.

The lights in the living room down the hall were on, but the entry way was in shadows. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, so Eren wasn’t tripping over himself, but it was odd how quiet it all seemed. Eren put his hand on the wall as he kicked off his shoes and lost balance for a moment. The wall felt like it had a recess. He flicked on the light. There was a hole there, like someone had punched it. Eren thought it was odd, but more so because he hadn’t been home. If anyone was likely to put a hole in the wall, it would be Eren. He had broken the banister sliding down it, a window kicking a ball in backyard with Armin and Mikasa, several picture frames when running past tables, and, even after the pictures had been wall mounted, more frames when he thought it might be worth trying to slide down the banister again and flew into the wall.

“Mom? Dad?”

“In the dining room, Eren,” his father called. Maybe Eren was being sensitive, but his dad sounded strained. He should have called ahead to let them know he’d be late.  _ Nice, Eren. They make you a home-cooked meal and you can’t do the bare minimum. You don’t deserve roast chicken. You deserve steamed broccoli at best.  _

He found his mother sitting at one end of the table and his father standing with his hands on the back of the chair at the opposite end. The table was neatly laid with chicken, salad, potatoes, and far too many other sides as per usual. His mouth was watering. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in a month and neither he nor his roommates were particularly good chefs. They ate a lot of stir fries whose sauces were mostly sriracha.

“Go ahead.” Grisha motioned to the chair in front of Eren. “Sit down and eat.”

Eren pulled the chair out, but paused. Something felt off. He looked down the table at his mother. She had her fingers steepled in front of her lips and eyes cast down. Why hadn’t they eaten? More importantly, why wasn’t she ripping Eren’s head off and screaming down his gullet? He looked closer and thought she was trembling. Gods, how deep in the shit was he?

“Is something wrong?” Eren asked. When Grisha sort of rolled his head side to side, Eren turned to his mother. “Mom, are you alright?”

She burst into tears.  _ Way to go, Eren. If only past-you wasn’t such a rage-infused piece of shit, you wouldn’t have been late for dinner. She even baked you a pie, asshole, with a latticework top. You know that shit’s tricky _ .

Eren approached her with caution. “Mom, I’m sorry. I should have texted. I was thoughtless and unappreciative of the hard and, of course, valid work you do in the kitchen—”

She stood up and pulled Eren into a tight hug. He could feel her trembling now. She ran a hand through his hair. “You’re so good, Eren.”

“I—what?”

“You’re a good man. **”**

Eren looked to his father. Grisha was staring down at the table. Eren thought he looked guilty, but he didn’t understand why. The only logical connections his brain was making between the hole in the wall, the two of them standing with as much furniture between them as possible, didn’t align with what he knew about his father. Grisha barely ever raised his voice, let alone his fists. But why was he just standing there looking like he’d clubbed a baby seal with an ivory-heeled boot?

Eren felt like every fibre that connected him to his family was being strained as he whispered to his mother, “Do you need to get out of here?”

She shook her head. “No, I already called your grandmother. I’ll be staying with her until…for the time being.”

Eren rubbed her back until she calmed down. This wasn’t like her and it was putting Eren on edge. A lioness wouldn’t cry because she stepped on a thorn. What kind of beast could leave her so gutted? 

She grabbed a napkin to dab her eyes with. “Grisha, don’t you have anything to say?”

“I was going to wait until after everyone had eaten.”

Eren’s mouth was so dry, he didn’t think he’d be able to swallow anything. Plus his stomach was filled with a mysterious emotion. He wasn’t sure if it was sadness, rage, or a bastard of the both.

Carla snapped, “C’mon, Grisha. You’ve got ample proof that you have a pair, now wear ‘em.”

Grisha nodded. “Okay. Perhaps we should all take a seat.”

Eren didn’t think it would be possible for him to get comfy, but he settled into the chair between his parents. Grisha was still having trouble looking up and Carla’s gaze could carve her excellently cooked chicken.

“So.” Laid his hands on the table and stared the pepper mill down. He shook his head and began again.

“A couple years before I met your mother, I was dating another woman named Dina Fritz. Dina was…” Grisha made a motion with his hands like he was trying to grasp something, “well, frankly, she was from a higher class than me. We were happy as we were, but her parents were not. I was naive.”

“Give yourself a bit more credit than that, Grisha,” Carla sneered.

Grisha nodded. “I wasn’t unaware of some things, but I truly didn’t think her being from the 1% would mean much if we loved one another. But, I guess, the thought of her losing her family and their fortune, as well as societal pressures I can only guess at, were enough to drive us apart.”

Grisha twirled a fork in his hand and decidedly set it down, straightening it twice before leaving it be. 

“About couple months after we ended things, she asked to meet me.” Grisha chuckled to himself, but cleared his throat when he caught Carla’s eye. “It was a very odd meeting. She wore this shawl to cover her head and this horrendous tracksuit to hide the fact that she came from money. Though I think asking the poor girl working the cash at McDieter’s what their finest cut of beef was was a bit of a giveaway.”

When he saw Carla was thin lipped and Eren furrowing his brows in confusion, Grisha hurried along. “Anyway, she told me she was pregnant with my child and wondered if I would perform the abortion. I told her that even if that was in my field, it would be unethical, but I referred her to a trustworthy colleague. She, uh, told me I was a coward, ripped the card up in my face, and said she would get her very expensive physician to do it.”

Eren’s brain was working like a desperate lab rat, trying to sniff out where the scent of understanding was coming from. What did any of this have to do with the present day?

“I thought she—” Grisha started to say, but a sharp cough from Carla redirected his words. “I  _ hoped _ that she had gone through with the termination and that would be our last contact with one another, and it was the last time we spoke. But a couple years ago, I got a call early one morning about my son being in trouble. The thing was, you were yawning at the breakfast table, so I knew it wasn’t about you, Eren.”

Eren was rigid and so very confused. It sounded like Grisha had lied and that hurt, but Eren would except his mother to be flipping tables and not crying over them if it was just a secret son.

“I felt my heart sink. It had been nearly two decades since I spoke to Dina and never once did she mention she had kept the child.” Grisha took a deep breath.

Eren asked, his voice cracking for the first time since puberty. “I actually have a brother?”

“Yes. I confirmed it today after Zeke attacked your mother.”

Eren would have made an excellent owl with how rapidly he swivelled his head between his parents. And how large his eyes went. With  _ rage _ .

“He was banged up like you used to be after picking a fight with the neighbourhood bullies,” Carla said, “but he’s the spitting image of Grisha, just blond.”

“Why did he attack you though?” Eren asked, still hunting for that cheese of comprehension. “Did he think you stole dad from his mom?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say Zeke has a lot of rage and little self-control.” Carla balled her tear-sodden napkin in her hands. “He was looking for Grisha and when he couldn’t find him he punched a hole in the wall next to my head and threw my coffee table into the fireplace. By the way, sweetie, don’t walk in the living room without shoes on. I’m not certain I’ve gotten all the glass yet. Grisha, feel free to do gymnastics naked in there though.”

Eren stared at his empty plate. He remembered the time, about ten minutes ago, when all he wanted was some chicken and potatoes. Now he wanted to find Zeke and treat him like the coffee table. 

Grisha read Eren’s mind or, more likely having been his father and the doctor who patched up every scrape and cut he’d got, made an educated guess. “Don’t go looking for Zeke, Eren. Let me handle him.”

“I can’t trust you to do that, can I?” Eren was bunching up the table cloth in his fists. “You should have done that over 20 years ago.”

“Eren, I couldn’t legally perform an abortion on a romantic partner—”

“Not that, you idiot. You should have gone with her, followed up, taken responsibility for your half of the fucking mess.”  _ Not that an unplanned child is a mess—but maybe in this case—he’s still human—I’M TOO MAD FOR THOUGHTS _ . Eren could feel his chest heaving. He thought he might actually vomit up his heart. “He’s gotta be pissed that you didn’t give a shit about him and it sounds like he’s about as thoughtful as you when it comes to emotional collateral damage. There’s no way I’m not doing anything when he could come back and break more of our furniture or, I dunno, mom’s neck. Do you even give a pig’s shit about that?”

Grisha slammed his fist down and looked shocked that he’d done so. He rubbed the table as if to make it feel better. “Of course I care, which is why—part of the reason why she won’t be living here for…however long. And you aren’t going to go near him, young man. He’s not well.”

“This is one thing Grisha and I agree on,” Carla said. “I thought his face was all bruised from an accident, like an airbag went off in it. But it turns out he’s a professional fighter.”

“He actually holds the title in his division and is thinking of either dropping down a weight class or bulking up for another title,” Grisha added.

Carla clicked her tongue. “Aren’t you just father of the year.”

“I’m just trying to impress on Eren how dangerous it would be to confront him.”

“I’ve been training too,” Eren interjected.

“I know,” Grisha said gently, “and I’m proud of you for making it so far in karate. Against the average thug, you’d be able to come out on top. But Zeke fights for a living. And keep in mind he’s holding back in the ring because there are certain things you can’t do in an official match. In an unsanctioned street fight, those rules don’t apply.”

Eren knocked his chair over when he stood. He felt guilt pierce his heart when his mother jumped at the noise. He apologized before saying anything else, and made sure his voice was low. “You have no idea what any kind of fight is like because you run away. You ran away from Dina, you ran away from Zeke, and you ran away from us.”

Eren pressed the heel of his palms into his forehead. He was thinking and feeling a lot. Did Zeke know or care about having a brother? What did he want from Grisha? Money, love, retribution? Why the hell did he go off on his mother? But the simplest, stupidest, and annoyingly loudest part of his brain kept wondering,  _ What if I had accidentally slept with him? For fuck’s sake Eren, there are other things to be concerned about than where your dick may or may not have been _ . _ Besides, is he even into men? I do have a point though. Think back. Do I remember ever having slept with someone who looked like my dad? _ Eren ground his palms in deeper, pressing on his eyeballs.  _ Some questions are better left UNASKED _ .

Eren felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to leave for your grandmother’s. You can come with me. I’ll pack up dinner and you can eat on the way. **”**

Eren heard himself saying, “No…if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay here.”

Carla and Grisha shared a look, and a concerned one at that. She said, “Eren, if you’re thinking that Zeke might come back, you better think again, young man.”

“No, Grandma’s is just too far away. I said I’d meet up with a friend tomorrow,” Eren lied. Confronting Zeke was exactly what he was hoping would happen. “It would be too far of a drive just to sleep somewhere else.”

“You can go back to your apartment, if you like,” Grisha said lightly.

“You want to pretend your other son doesn’t exist too?” Eren immediately regretted saying it. He was angry. He hadn’t felt this angry since…actually ever. He wanted to hurt his father so that he felt what Eren was feeling. So that he understood this wasn’t accidentally forgetting to pick Eren up after skating practice or coming home late on his birthday. These were some real adult-ass problems. Lies so big, Eren would need more than his fingers and maniacal grit to scale them.

Carla softly pinched Eren’s arm and Grisha merely bowed his head. The damage was done. There was no point pulling at the fibres to widen the gap between them.

Eren ducked his head as he said, “I’m tired and I don’t want to have to explain to Mikasa and Armin why I’m back so soon tonight.” 

There were some nuggets of truth in this. He would tell his friends. He told them everything, even the stuff he didn’t want to tell them. And they never looked at him like a monster. The emotional wiring in his brain was fried after this conversation and he’d probably end up burbling nonsense through snot and tears if he had to relay it so soon.

Grisha nodded. “Okay, son.”

Eren was both comforted and pained by his father’s simple words.

***

Eren spent the better part of the Saturday laying in his room, not really doing anything except listening to the noises in the house. He scrolled through various subreddits, upvoted friends’ posts on things they saw around the Greater Paradis Region, watched videos on how to do different submissions and chokes with the volume low. Any noise, be it the neighbourhood kids riding skateboards down the street or a car bottoming out on a speed bump, he’d look up, wondering if it was Zeke.

He had heard a noise outside his door in the early afternoon. When he opened it, he found a serving tray with a chicken sandwich and fresh cut veggies. His dad was giving him space, but still being the decent father he had always been. Eren’s stomach felt too full of jumbled emotions for leftover chicken, but he persuaded himself to eat some carrots and cucumber.

A couple times during the day, Eren felt panicked and thought he might need to talk to someone. But each time he picked up his cell phone to text Armin “What’s new?” or Mikasa, “What are you doing?”, but he couldn’t follow through. He wanted the comfort of knowing someone was there to listen, but not to say anything.

Other times, Eren was just angry. With his dad for not telling them the truth. With Zeke for scaring his mother. With himself for feeling this awful when he wasn’t sure it was really that bad. He had a good life that was fairly free of pain and full of privilege. So he had a secret half-brother? There were plenty of people even within his city that didn’t know they had siblings or were ripped from their parents. He shouldn’t feel so down, especially since he was an adult, right?

Eren pressed his hands into his face and when he got used to that pressure, he ran his fingers through his hair and slowly tightened his grip. Physical stimulation helped dull the traffic of his mind. One thought did get through, probably on some bumpy, unpaved side road with plenty of signage telling him to turn back. When he picked up his phone to text Levi, he still hesitated, but ultimately sent the message.

Levi responded about 20 minutes later. He was on his break and would be home in about four hours and Furlan was home to let Eren in. And sure, he was DTF.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first rule of fanfiction is we don't talk about fanfiction. Actually, I am Jack's lying ass and kudos, comments, concrit are always appreciated :)


	3. Your Name is Buck, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut with a side of feelings and hard talks with friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Allusion to past sexual trauma and, well, smut.

“I’d throw up.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

“Almost literally. I gag and get turned off. Even the thought of swallowing…”

“Yeah, your lip’s curling.” Eren laughed as he looked down at Levi. He was propped up on the pillow next to Levi. “And that’s why the mouthwash?”

“Brushing your teeth is even better, like you’re scrubbing the little shits out. But at least with mouthwash your breath doesn’t smell like dick.” Levi pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. He’d lived in the basement part of the house since they moved in about seven years ago, but he’d never gotten used to the cold, especially on naked skin.

Eren said, “But when we first had sex, you were pretty forward.”

“You had just showered and I didn’t think you’d come in the first ten seconds. I don’t make the rules of how my mind works, I just abide by them.”

“I’m not judging you, Levi.”

“I didn’t think you were.” Levi folded his arms behind his head. “What about you then? Anything I should know going forward?”

“Well, I think you know I like to really feel my partner.”

Levi let out a single laugh. “I think you mean you like when I feel you. And hard.”

“Yeah, how did you know? I mean, I was fine with it and I’d tell you to stop, if I wasn’t.”

“Because when I cracked your thighs open you moaned. Someone ramming their elbows into a sensitive spot usually makes people scream.” Levi remembered looking down on Eren when they had been sparring, thinking this guy’s just wired to take damage. Levi would hate to face someone like Eren in the octagon because he would be the type to be a red, sopping mess, but to never stop hunting him down in the cage. But there on his back in Levi’s basement, the way Eren reacted openly got Levi going. This guy didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. He wore it slapped onto his face. “It feels like banging into the corner of a table.”

Eren nodded. He looked around Levi’s bedroom, but there wasn’t much to look at. He didn’t even have carpets and the walls were just concrete.

“The room that depressing?” Levi asked.

“What?”

“You were pulling a face.”

“Oh, no.” Eren didn’t even seem to know he was emoting. “Just on the topic of things I like and don’t like, well. Biting is okay. I don’t like being hit, like even playfully slapped. And, uh…”

Levi rolled to face him head on. “Don’t be embarrassed. I need to know if we’re going to keep doing this.”

“I don’t really like to be topped, I don’t think.” Levi thought there was something vulnerable there.

Levi’s brows softened maybe a fraction of a hair. “Okay.”

“I’m not saying never and you don’t always have to bottom. There are plenty of ways we can do this.” Eren focused on smoothing the wrinkles of the bedsheets. “It’s just, I really only tried once and it wasn’t good.” 

“You don’t have to tell me why.” It was hard to get words out evenly with empathy digging her elbows into his chest as she grinned down at him. Levi thought he might have lived a similar experience or at least felt similar emotions at one time. This was the danger of being around Eren. He made Levi  _ feel _ things.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I had this toxic mentality then where I didn’t want to look weak.” Eren was blushing and he looked frustrated with himself for it.

“Eren.” Like storm clouds parting to let a select group of lucky bastards enjoy a small patch of sun, Levi stared at him. “You have  _ nothing _ to be embarrassed about.”

*******

Levi had a good memory. It was one of the reasons he was an effective fighter. Part of his training was to sit in his uncle’s living room and watch other fighters’ matches. If someone threw punches mainly from the right, he noted that. If someone had a particular combo they relied on, Levi memorized it. If someone liked to start with a flying kick, then Levi would count how many steps it took for them to get across the mat. Levi could probably get the W without doing all this “academic work” as Kenny liked to call it. He was naturally talented, fast, and powerful. He was also small would always be a disadvantage when it came to reach. His opponent could grab him by the head before he could even reach their elbows. 

He should probably have been fighting in a lighter weight class, but he liked his body the way it was and he wouldn’t dehydrate before a weigh in just to shed the weight. What a stupid thing to do. He was already throwing his body in to get punched and twisted. He didn’t need to abuse it from the inside too.

All this was suffice to say that he had a good head on his shoulders and an even better memory. So when Eren texted him, asking if they could have sex and, if Eren could be on the receiving end, Levi surprised because he remembered the conversation they had after their second encounter. To top it off, Eren had never initiated sex. Levi had been the one to ask him over because it was Levi who needed to destress and get a good night’s sleep before a match. Levi was curious but also cautious. If this change was coming about because Eren wanted a boyfriend, then neither of them would be feeling very lucky tonight. 

The request was followed by two paragraphs of how Eren hadn’t eaten much and been fairly regular, how he would use an enema beforehand, and even bring his own towels and gloves. Levi had read maybe two lines of the text wall before texting back that he was game. He trusted Eren. That and he didn’t trust the grizzled, working-class men in the lunchroom not to look over his shoulder and read his phone. He didn’t trust them not to be assholes either. They gave Isabel enough grief over her having a vagina and working in a car manufacturing plant. Who knew what kind of shit they might pull if they knew he was into ass play with other men. Sure, Levi could shovel the shit right back at them, but why waste energy on waste? The last thing he did before finishing his shift was text Kenny that he would come by tomorrow instead of tonight for the academic work.

*******

The bus home had been late and the weather was dismal. Levi had hoped to get home before Eren so that he could shower thoroughly, but Eren’s car was parked on the street in front of the townhouse.

“Oh, Eren’s here!” Isabel said while running up to the car to peer in the windows.

“You think he’d just be waiting in the car for me to walk up the drive?” Levi said. “He’s not one of your rabid pets begging for scraps.”

“Yeah, but you’re kind of a bastard and I thought you might pull some alpha shit by making him wait in the car.”

Levi paused in his tracks. “Alpha shit? Why do you think so little of me?”

“What are you talking about? I think very highly of you,” Isabel yelled over her shoulder as she took off up the drive. 

Levi decided the conversation needed to die there and followed at a more adult pace.

When he stepped inside, he caught the tail-end of Furlan and Eren’s conversation, or rather Furlan had docked it because Levi had entered.

“Okay. Just let me know if you want to hang and sort some things too, though. Hey Levi. Hey Isabel.” Furlan called from the kitchen.

Isabel kicked her shoes off and bolted up the stairs. Levi inspected his boots for mud, removed them, and lined them up against the wall before following her. Eren and Furlan were sitting at the flimsy island in the kitchen, and Isabel had latched onto Eren.

“I missed you, Eren.” She ruffled his hair. Eren was hunched over with his elbows on the counter.

Furlan said, “It’s been less than 24 hours since you saw him.”

“Ten hours of work feels like a week though,” she countered. “Next time we hang out you should drink with us. I bet you’re a fun drunk. Or we could drink tonight.”

“Sorry, I drove over and,” Eren looked to Levi. His eyes looked red and his smile strained, “I made plans with Levi.”

Isabel threw an arm across Eren’s shoulders. “Oh, lucky you.”

Before the conversation could get awkward, Levi said, “I’m drenched. I’m going to take a hot shower.”

Eren nodded. Levi thought he looked tired, especially since Eren made it sound like he had spent most of the day lounging in bed. Maybe he had something on his mind. Maybe he was nervous about their plans. Eren would let him know if it was important to their plans.

“Take your time, Levi. I can wait wherever and out of the way.”

“Sure. I’ll meet you downstairs in about 30 minutes.”

Levi heard Furlan tell Eren that they could hangout upstairs, that he didn’t need to tuck himself away on their account.

“Are you sad, Eren?” Isabel asked. Levi turned the corner and paused out of eye sight at the top of the stairs.

“He’s our guest, Isabel. Give the man some space.”

“I was just asking is all.”

“It’s okay,” Eren chuckled. Levi thought it sounded a bit forced. “I’m fine. I’m good. Just tired.”

Levi left after that. Eren was in good hands. Probably the best sets of hands this household had to offer. Furlan was down to earth and maybe not the best at awkward subjects, but Isabel would gladly talk about the most personal things like she was discussing how she liked her tea. Besides, Eren wasn’t here to discuss his feelings with Levi. They weren’t friends, really either. They were something less than that but more than strangers. Levi shouldn’t care, but he was frustrated that he was starting to.

*******

The moment Levi stepped out of the bathroom wearing just a towel and into his basement bedroom he got goosebumps. He had thought about closing the vents, but Furlan could put headphones on if he cared that much about noise.

Eren was sitting on his bed, illuminated by his phone’s screen. He put it away when Levi tossed a couple towels on the bed next to him.

“You could have turned a light on,” Levi said.

“I was fine in the dark.”

“I find it depressing. When the sun’s down, I only come down here to sleep and workout.” Levi turned the bedside light on. “We’ll want some light for what you want. You still want me in you, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Eren sat up straight. He had bags under his eyes and, Levi didn’t know how to describe it without sounding lame, he looked less peppy.

Levi didn’t want to be condescending or doubtful of Eren’s ability to know what he wanted. He looked like he was working through some shit that he wasn’t willing to talk about, which Levi suspected was the horse pulling this cart. He stood before Eren and asked one more time, “You ready?”

Eren nodded, firmly. “Yes.”

“We’ll go slow.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Levi kissed Eren to gently push him down. He figured he’d work his jaw and upper body for a while to give Eren time to either relax or decide to back out. He hovered over Eren, kissing him with mounting intensity but not with urgency. Eren either wanted to speed things up or to feel Levi’s skin on his. He removed his shirt and Levi took the hint to kiss down his chest. When Eren’s fingers gripped more firmly, Levi lingered wherever he was kissing or running his teeth over. Eren wasn’t hard to figure out. Maybe mentally there was more being offered than advertised on the door, but Eren hadn’t asked to come talk about his feelings.

Eren was fussing with his zipper, so Levi broke away to give him space. With less energy than he had come to expect, Eren shucked his clothes off. Levi didn’t want to take the towel off before Eren was prepared, but he didn’t want to be rude. He laid the towel next to them.

Levi worked down Eren’s navel and gave his dick a couple draws with his mouth before asking him to pass over the lube, condoms, and gloves that Eren had put on his bedside table. He laid out towels on the bed. He’d wash the sheets for sure, but he might not have the energy to strip the bed tonight.

“Be honest with me because I’ll make this happen if you want it to happen either way,” Levi said as he snapped on a pair of gloves. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the height of comfort and one being a bed of nails, how comfortable are you right now?”

Eren held his gaze and blinked slowly. “About a three.”

“Okay, slow it is.”

“You can go at your own pace.”

“No, we’ll go at our pace. I’m going to start by giving you a massage.” Levi squeezed lube in the palm of his gloved hands. He could feel it was chilly, so he let it rest for a minute. “If I had known before leaving for work that you’d be coming over, I would have put this anywhere but the basement.”

Eren said, “What if your roommates happened to find a random bottle of lube lying around?”

Levi shrugged. “Furlan’s awkward, but Isabel would be over the moon for me. For you too, now that she knows you. You got a friend as annoyingly involved as her?”

Eren smiled. “I think I am that friend.”

Levi laughed through his nose. “At least you’re self aware. Okay, I’m starting now.”

Eren reflexively tensed when Levi gently rubbed his thumb around his hole. “Tell me to stop if you need to.”

Eren had his eyes closed. “No, it feels good.”

“So long as you’re sure, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.” And he did. He pulled one of Eren’s legs wider apart and ran a finger along his rim. He could see the muscles of Eren’s thigh flex, but as he got tired or maybe more comfortable, the definition faded into softer tissue. When Eren started to squirm, Levi pressed the tip of a finger in. Eren’s chest swelled with a held breath, but he wasn’t clenching. 

Levi thought chit chat might take Eren’s mind off the physical realm. “How has your weekend been?”

It was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Levi thought of those sea creatures, anemone maybe, that looked like they had hair and could suddenly close up around a fish. Levi was reminded of those now.

“That bad?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve had better,” Eren strained to say.

“I can tell you about mine. So after getting Furlan shitfaced, the four of us ate two plates of nachos and at least three baskets of wings. I can’t remember, but I know there were enough bones to make a chicken out of.”

Eren laughed and loosened up. Levi slipped his finger in past the knuckle and gently pulsed. “It would just be all wings. The chicken, I mean. That feels good, by the way.”

“Good. Want me to start rubbing you off?”

Eren sat up. “What about you? No, we should get you going too.”

“It won’t take me long to get hard and I want you feeling good about this before then.” Levi pushed on Eren’s shoulder. “Lay back.”

Levi could feel the effort it took Eren to not sputter something about equality. Eren was back to melting when Levi began to stroke him off. He even widened his legs on his own. Levi pumped on both ends for another minute and then took his hand from Eren’s cock to tug at his own.

“Can I do that?” Eren asked.

“Sure.”

Eren pulled on Levi and kissed along his throat. Levi pressed their lips together once before rolling a condom on and lubing himself up. He striped the gloves off. “Get comfy on the pillows.”

While he did, Levi flattened the towel out. He’d probably used more lube than necessary, but he figured Eren would be comforted to see he was well oiled. With Eren settled, Levi kissed along his thigh to give him one last opportunity to back out. He could see Eren’s chest heaving and he was hard, so all systems were go.

Levi lined himself up. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Levi grabbed a hold of himself to guide himself in. Eren’s breathing picked up. He was tight, but was he tight or uptight?

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Uh, like a five, but a good five,” Eren panted.

“A ‘good’ five?” Levi wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Like I feel full, maybe like a cup that one more drop would be too much, but…it feels right.”

Levi pumped only halfway and slowly. Eren’s legs wriggled against his. “And now.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Eren nodded. “You can go deeper. I’m good.”

“Why don’t you make me go deeper?” Levi said it in part to be an ass and in part to get Eren more involved. At the very least, it made Eren laugh. He took the advice by putting his hands on the sides of Levi’s thighs and pushing him down. Eren’s laugh got ragged. Levi kissed along his collarbone while keeping the rhythm steady.

“Can you use your teeth?” Eren panted.

“What?”

“Bite me, please. If that’s okay with you, of course.” Eren turned his head to the side.

“Fine.” Levi dragged his teeth lightly across the meatier parts of Eren’s shoulders and chest. If his mouth wasn’t currently on a job, he’d laugh. Eren dove into things head first, be it his first day in the dojo or first time under Levi’s wheels. In another life (or more likely world, as it was often the world that fucked people over), Levi would have liked to live like consequences were as real as unicorns, Santa, or tofurkey.

“Harder, please, Levi.” Eren was getting lost in it now. Levi was content to see him loosening up. He looked more like the version of Eren Levi was used to. Well, he knew a couple versions. There was death-parade Eren who maniacally charged into a fight. And bleeding-heart Eren who spittled blood with every word he spoke. 

Levi kissed Eren in acknowledgement. Eren didn’t know the meaning of chill. Levi ran a thumb along Eren’s cheek as he pulled on Eren’s lip with his teeth. The bare-ass, balls-to-the-wall, open-heart glint in Eren’s eyes reminded Levi to reel himself in. Getting Eren off was a short-term goal and not a long-term commitment. Levi stopped touching Eren’s face and nibbled the muscles above his collar bone.

Levi could feel Eren’s dick rigid against his stomach. Levi bit down above the collar bone. Eren got out, “Yes, fuck, yes. That.”

Levi worked Eren and, Eren for his part, ran his hands along Levi’s body, kneading and rubbing him. Coming home from a shift of manual labour plus the relentless training that Erwin, Kenny, and he himself put him through left his muscles feeling tired if not aching most days. Eren’s massaging the back of his neck slowed and relaxed him. Eren wasn’t the only one in need of a massage.

Eren asked, “What about you? What do you want?”

“Don’t know. Are you close?” Levi reached a hand between them. He was stiff. Eren let out a couple imaginative curse words through gritted teeth. And  _ sensitive _ . “That sounds like a yes. You okay with flipping over? I don’t really want to get frosted.”

Eren’s mouth gaped. “What?”

“You know, like a cinnamon bun. I don’t want your jizz on my stomach.”

Eren laughed like they were sitting tableside in a comedy club and he didn’t have a dick up his ass. “Sorry, your aversion to bodily fluids is valid and normal. Your phrasing is not though.” Levi stopped moving while Eren composed himself. He wiped a tear from his eye. “No one would ever call you a cinnamon bun. Not that I don’t think you can’t be sweet. ”

Levi stared blandly down at him. When he next pressed his full length in, he ground his hips too. Eren’s smile dissolved and his legs clenched around the back of Levi’s legs, holding him there. That backfired on Levi.

“Eat a dick, Eren.”

“If that’s what you want, I could—”

“No. Flip over.” Levi pulled out and let Eren situate himself on his hands and knees. Eren was either tired or close. His arms were shaking and, when Levi suggested he lay on his elbows, Eren sank with a sigh.

Levi got some amusement and more pleasure from watching himself sliding in and out of Eren. The lube leaking out wasn’t that bad. The sweat pooling just above his butt could be wiped away. Yeah, he could wait to wash the sheets tomorrow and focus on letting go tonight.

Eren was moaning and cussing. Levi hadn’t noticed he was this noisy during their other nights in the basement. But Eren’s mouth had business elsewhere. No wonder Furlan complained. Levi lightly pressed Eren further forward and pumped at this new angle.

“Fuck, yes. Levi, do that again. But harder.”

“Cartwheeling before you can walk there, Eren?”

“I know my limits.” Eren rubbed his forehead into the mattress and tugged the sheets hard enough to pull one of the corners off. The bed would know them too, it seemed.

Levi was okay with harder. Even Eren mentioning the word chucked another log on the fire burning below his navel. Levi snapped his hips and Eren moaned his name. Yet another tossed log sending up sparks. Levi snapped his hips until he felt the burn of urgency in himself. He slowed down to reach around Eren. He had gotten a bit lost in the sex himself and hadn’t realized Eren had been stroking himself. His dick was slick from more than the excess lube. He scooted Eren’s hand away and asked, “Fast or slow?”

“Uh, ah, medium?”

“I’m trying to get you off, not buy you a sweater—fuck.” Eren tightened around him. Apparently whatever speed Levi was stroking him was “medium”. Levi watched the muscles of Eren’s back move and tremble. He had been with some fit guys before—guys who could lift a heavy thing up and down, probably with more grunts than necessary, which he supposed was impressive in some way, but Levi didn’t see the point in having the muscles if they didn’t know how to use them. If you spent a small fortune on a top-tier oven, you ought to be doing more than baking tater tots. Levi admired the muscles that were starting to appear on Eren. He knew the number of punches (technical ones with the hip snapping and feet pivoting, and not the meaty punches the Chadites had thrown) had to be in the high hundreds for Eren. He should be proud of where he had climbed. Levi ran a heavy hand through Eren’s hair and light nails down his back.

Levi stroked him faster and picked up his rhythm, finding good depth and friction.

“Come on, Eren.”

“I…am, but harder. Oh, fuck, Levi.”

Eren came, his penis twitching slightly in Levi’s hand. Levi blindly wiped himself on the towel. He stopped thrusting and grabbed Eren’s hips to hold him in place. Eren’s clenching and unclenching as he rode his orgasm out was enough to finish Levi off. Well, maybe a couple gentle pulses.

Levi held the condom on himself as he pulled out. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Levi walked to the bathroom and rolled the condom off over the toilet. He couldn’t help his nose wrinkling up. If there was one thing he’d change about his body, it might be the amount of semen he produced. If there were Gods, they probably made him this prolific as a sick joke. Other men might find a source of pride or pleasure. Levi saw it as yet another battle against that messy bitch, Mother Nature.

Levi wiped himself from nape to thighs. He grabbed a couple face cloths and soaked them with warm water. He filled a cup at the sink and grabbed a protein bar from his dresser on the way back.

Eren took his words too literally and hadn’t moved, except to lower his bottom onto his heels. It kind of looked like he was doing yoga. Levi tapped his flank. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t want to make a mess or roll in anything.”

“You’re good. I’m going to clean you up now.”

“Thanks, Levi.”

Levi took a cloth to Eren’s backside, wiping him down with similar motions to how they had started their fun. He folded up the dirty linens and put them in a pile next to the bed. He spent some time just rubbing circles into Eren’s cheeks and combing his thighs lightly with his finger nails. Eren was probably still coming down from his high as well as any anxious feelings he had had at the start.

“That feels nice.” The words were complimentary, but Eren sounded like he was praising a makeup artist at a funeral home. What was up with him tonight? 

Levi stared at the back of Eren’s head. The cold concrete floor on his feet chased away warmer feelings. If he had stayed in bed, he might have asked Eren something deeper than, “How’s your ass?”

“It stings a bit, but in a way I’m okay with. It’s okay. You were good.”

“I wasn’t concerned about whether I was good or not.” Eren turned over at the mention of concern. Levi chucked the protein bar at him and placed the cup of water on the night table. “Eat and drink. You look like you could use it and maybe a long-ass soak in a tub.”

Eren blinked. He blinked some more. Levi got up to throw the towels in the laundry. If Eren wanted to cry, he could do so without an audience. He didn’t know what to do with tears.

When Levi came back, Eren was just pulling his shirt back on. He wiped at his nose in what he probably thought was a discreet way, but he was forgetting Levi’s penchant for cleanliness, and he noticed anything unclean. “I’m going to head out. I…hope that’s okay with you.”

“You do what you’ve got to do.” Levi pulled a pair of boxers on.

Eren nodded, made a gesture like he was going to walk over to him, and then waved instead. Levi raised his fingers in a half-assed wave. Eren jogged up the stairs and slipped out the door with a forced cheery goodbye to Furlan and Isabel.

Levi felt like he had this morning after 3-ish glasses of whiskey and a quarter of a chicken’s worth of wings. Rancid and regretful. “Fucking brat.”

Levi pulled on a T-shirt and sweatpants and found his roommates in the living room, sharing a pudding cup. Furlan waved his spoon to ward off Levi. “Before you make some snarky comment, Isabel was craving both butterscotch and chocolate pudding, but didn’t want that much sugar before bed. We compromised by splitting them because that’s what adults do.”

“I don’t give a shit if you share the same tampons.”

Furlan gave him a flat look, but Isabel laughed. “Ha. Disgusting.”

“What crawled up your butt and died?” Furlan asked.

Isabel said in a singsong voice, “Probably Eren.”

Furlan jerked the pudding cup away as Isabel went in for a scoop. “Hey!”

Furlan said tersely, “It sounds like you’ve had enough sugar.”

Levi sat down in the recliner that no longer actually reclined, but instead creaked like a door in a horror movie any time anyone so much as farted on it. “She’s not wrong.”

“I’m not?” Isabel asked. “But it sounded like you guys were having so much fun.”

Furlan set the pudding cup down and put a hand over his eyes.

“We had a fucking blast until the fucking ended. Did he say anything to you?” Levi looked between them. He nodded at Furlan. “You were home with him for some time.”

Furlan shrugged. “Maybe we just talked about the weather.”

Levi’s gaze, which was stony at the best of time, turned concrete. Furlan poked a finger at Levi. “You just spent the better part of an hour being intimate with him. Shouldn’t you know best?”

“We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Then why do you care, Levi?”

Levi sneered. “I don’t have to be writing him love poems just to care whether he’s going to chuck himself off the roof of Reiss Chapel.”

“Gods fucking dammit. You don’t have to write him poetry to  _ ask _ if he plans to.”

Levi tensed and the chair gave a betraying squeak. “Why are  _ you _ up my butt about this?”

Furlan shook his head. “I don’t want to be your emotional mule.”

“Hey guys, don’t actually start fighting,” Isabel laughed nervously.

Furlan took in a breath and looked to Levi. Levi nodded and pushed himself up, the chair protesting loudly. Furlan motioned at Levi, looking for Isabel to agree that the man who had the most up his butt was him, but she was staring gloomily at her feet.

She softly, “He looked sad.”

“Yeah, he did,” Furlan agreed. “But he didn’t want to say much about it. ”

Furlan and Levi stared each other down. Furlan conceded and waved Levi to sit again. “He didn’t say much, just that there was some drama in his family.”

“Eren seems the type to be really close to his family,” Isabel said. She put her spoon down next to the half-eaten pudding cup. She was serious. “He’s probably really hurting then."

“What kind of drama?” Levi asked. “Like a divorce? Death in the family?”

“I don’t know.” Furlan rubbed his brow. “Maybe a fight. He mentioned something about a table getting smashed.”

Levi sank back further in the chair and it let out a cooing creak. They all sat in silence staring at the pudding cup. Isabel spoke first. “I hope he’s alright. You guys must have his number. We should text him.”

Levi stood up. The chair practically snarled.

“Are you going to get your phone?” Isabel asked.

“No, I’m going to bed. I have to go over to Kenny’s tomorrow.”

“C’mon, Levi,” she said with a smile, “it’s just one text.”

“No it’s not,” Levi countered. “It’s one text tonight, several discussions about feelings that leads to building a foundation or fucking pillar of support.”

“That sounds like a good thing though?”

“Only if that pillar can be there consistently and I can’t.”

“C’mon, big brother—”

“Isabel, enough.” Every word he spoke felt like a five pound link in a chain that connected at his shoulders. “We work 50 plus hours a week, I train another 20. Half the month we’re working when most people are sleeping. The other half we’re either missing the sunrise or dinner. I have enough for rent, but not enough to cover Erwin’s and Kenny’s training fees. I don’t rarely have enough money or energy to have fun on the few days I have off.”

“Still…”

“I’ll text Eren.” Furlan pulled out his phone. “Levi, go get some sleep. If Eren plans on dangling himself from the Chapel’s rafters, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“But do us all a favour and think about what you actually want.”

Levi’s expression frosted over. “What do you mean?”

“I mean shit or get off the pot.”

“Are you telling me to either date Eren or cut him off?” Levi asked. If that’s what Furlan was suggesting, Levi might have a hard time stopping himself from dumping the pudding cup in his lap. He understood Furlan and Eren were friends, but that didn’t mean he could tell Levi where to stick his dick.

“No, dumbass. I’m saying think about what kind of relationship you do want with Eren.” Furlan looked like he might have an alternative use for the pudding cup too. Isabel squeezed his arm and he uncurled his fist. “Coming to us for information because you’re, what? Worried about Eren but don’t know if you have the time or energy to care? You do care. So deal with those feelings or stop asking about him. After tonight, I’m not going to peddle information about a friend, even to you.”

Levi stared at Furlan as he sifted through his phone, ignoring his best friend’s mounting wrath. Isabel fidgeted on the couch, looking between the two of them and for maybe the second time in her life, not knowing what to say.

It wasn’t worth it to fight with Furlan. For one thing, Furlan was right. For another, Levi wouldn’t want to ground and pound their relationship. Levi headed towards the stairs to the basement.

“Hey, asshole,” Furlan called after him in a lighter tone, “are we good?”

Levi nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. To both of you.”

Furlan waved him off. Isabel wouldn’t look at him and kept fidgeting with her sock.

“Isabel, what’s up?” Levi asked. When she kept fidgeting, Levi added, “Just say it. I won’t rip your head off.”

“Do you...not like Eren?” She mumbled. Furlan kept staring at his phone, but he had stopped scrolling.

Levi blinked. “No, I like him.”

She pulled on her pigtails. “Then, WHY?”

“Because what I want most is to fight. Think of it like wanting dessert all the time and wanting a toned body. You have to choose which you want most because you can’t have both.”

Isabel bounced on the couch. “But you can have both. Like splitting the pudding cups to get both flavours.”

Furlan and Levi shared a confused look. At least they were on the same page about one thing. Furlan said, “You’re mixing metaphors.”

“And making no sense.” Levi walked away. “I’m going to bed.”

Isabel swelled. She took the pudding cup and stomped down the hall to her bedroom. She yelled over her shoulder, “I hope you both fucking starve.”

  
  
  


*******

Eren stood in the hallway in front of his apartment door, holding his bag in one hand and a determinedly clenched fist in the other. He didn’t want to go back to his parents place where his father was something like a benevolent ghost, soundlessly leaving sustenance outside his bedroom door so that they might be able to pass on. He didn’t want to sleep huddled next to Levi either. Levi had been kinder than Eren expected him to be but colder and more out of reach than the fridge at 3:00 am. Levi must have known something was off, but he didn’t ask, and Eren wasn’t sure if he was relieved or let down by that. And he didn’t really want to be in his apartment with friends who had grown up with him and could scent his distress like drunks walking within a couple blocks of a pizzeria. But he couldn’t think of a place he did want to go.

Eren quietly opened the door and peeked into the living room. He felt guilty about sneaking around and then he felt guilty about feeling guilty because it was his apartment too, and if he wanted to enter without being disturbed, then he should have that right. Eren  _ proudly _ entered the living room, telling himself that this was his current home—his father’s haunted house be damned—and that he felt perfectly safe here, not because the living room was empty, but because he was confident and in control of his emotions.

“Hey, Eren,” Armin said as he came out of the kitchen with a bowl of grapes. He took one of his earbuds out and fiddled with his phone. “You’re home early. How’s your fam doing?”

Eren’s spine shrunk three vertebras and he dropped his bag on the floor. He was neither proud nor in control.

Armin gave him a funny look and slowly placed his grapes on the living room table.

Eren heard Mikasa’s footsteps coming down the hallway towards them. “Eren, your dad’s been texting me, asking if you came home. I tried calling you.”

“Your mom texted me too. I told her you were probably visiting a friend,” Armin said. “When none of our mutual friends had seen you, I assumed you were at Levi’s.”

Eren nodded and choked out, “Yeah, I was.”

Mikasa actually had to bend to meet Eren’s eyes. “Eren, did he hurt you?”

“What?”

“Mentally or physically, both count, of course.”

“You mean Levi? No. No. He was actually…good. Nice, even.”

Eren couldn’t trust himself to keep a decent posture, let alone file his thoughts and feelings in appropriate folders. He had gone to Levi with the expectation that the memories they would make would be filed under the PAIN folder, the PAIN folder that was filed in the SELF-LOATHING cabinet as opposed to the FUN TIMES cabinet. He had expected Levi to first say no and then when he said yes, to be rough, snide, and impatient. He hadn’t expected Levi to touch him gently. He hadn’t expected Levi to talk to him about his weekend and, when he must have noticed Eren’s discomfort, talked about himself instead. Eren hadn’t expected to laugh about how many chicken wings Furlan had eaten or Levi’s poor choice of words during sex. How could someone who couldn’t keep a dick in his mouth for more than 20 seconds spew such stupid filthy words? 

Part of Eren had thought (and maybe wanted?) Levi to call him a brat and shove his face into the mattress. Eren didn’t know why he had sought that possible reality out. Maybe it was like when he had scraped his knee as a kid or walked face-first into someone’s fist as an adult, and whoever he complained to, his father or Mikasa, would ask if he wanted his leg cut off or to be punched in the gut to make him forget the initial hurt.

To be treated softly by hands that punched people for money.  _ What the fucking shit, Levi. How am I supposed to take this? _ Eren prodded his temple with his fingers.  _ You should just talk to him like a normal human being, Eren.  _ Now he felt guilty about thinking Levi would be insensitive. Eren thought about putting his head in the dishwasher because obviously he needed a clearer perspective on reality.

Mikasa checked the time on her phone and gave Eren a skeptical look. “Your dad texted me an hour ago to say he hadn’t seen you for a couple hours. You were having sex for the last three hours?”

Armin looked incredulous. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Martial artists have good stamina when it comes to short bursts,” Mikasa reasoned. “It probably works out pretty good for sex.”

Armin blinked, “That’s not…never mind.”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. “You know something, Armin?”

Armin shoved his hands in the pouch of his hoodie. They could see his fingers nervously working. “Now’s not a good time. Eren’s clearly upset about something, so we should discuss that.”

Eren flopped face down on the couch “I don’t want to talk.” How could he think so little of Levi?  _ He is short. FUCK, Eren. Now is not the time _ .

Mikasa probably did what Mikasa did best which was intimidate and overwhelm, and not even big-brain Armin could out fox her hunter’s eyes. But what did their tiff matter when Eren was having a breakdown?  _ I’m a piece of shit. I’m shit’s shit. I’m dung beetle shit.  _ Eren only heard half the conversation over his own wallowing and only heard that half because they mentioned Levi’s name.

“…so every time Levi has a match, he makes it with Eren. Probably to blow off steam. It was pretty easy to figure out. Eren didn’t even have to tell us. Mikasa, I’m sorry about the dishes.”

Eren raised his head. “What was that?”

Armin raised his hands. “Don’t freak out, but when you started hanging out with Levi, Mikasa wondered if you guys were actually sleeping together or not, and it kind of became whoever was right had to do the dishes.”

“Except Armin’s a hack,” Mikasa said. 

“It’s not a hack to use your brain. I just noticed that right before Levi had a match, you guys, y’know. So the next time you guys hung right before a match, I figured you guys did it.”

Mikasa grabbed Armin about the drawstrings of his hoodie. “I had to scrape sriracha off the pans with my finger nails. My hands burned all night.”

“You could have soaked them.”

Eren sat up. “So, you’re saying, Levi only had sex with because he needed a distraction?.”

Armin said, “I don’t know the guy, so I can’t know his motivation, but the correlation between—”

Mikasa grabbed Armin’s mouth like she was wringing a cloth. Eren had started to giggle, then chuckle, then laugh hard enough that he toppled sideways onto the couch, clutching his sides.

“Eren,” Mikasa said, “what the fuck?”

Eren had felt guilty about misjudging and using Levi tonight. How the turntables turn.

Levi was just as guilty of the same thing. Or was anyone really guilty? They both used each other, but neither of them said not to. Was there anywhere written that thou shall not jerk off thy neighbour for selfish reasons? Eren wasn’t much for religion, except when taking the Gods’ names in vain, so he couldn’t say.

Armin gently pulled Mikasa’s hand back from his mouth and approached Eren who was increasingly in danger of swallowing his own tongue. “Hey, buddy, you okay there?”

Eren stopped laughing, but his sides were still twitching. “I don’t know.”

Armin sat on the couch by Eren’s feet while Mikasa took up her post at Eren’s head. She put a hand on his head. “If this manic episode was caused by Levi, I can kick his ass. I can’t actually take him, but I’ve fantasized about being in the UFC, so getting punched by a contracted fighter would be a good substitute.”

“No, it’s not really him.” His sides were still shaking. Actually, he wondered if his bones were replaced with Jello because everything from his vision to motor control seemed wobbly.

Armin said, “Something’s up with the family, right? Your parents aren’t in the same house, otherwise, why would they contact us separately about the same concern.”

Eren said in a monotone, “You’re clever, Armin.”

Armin put a hand on Eren’s calf and Mikasa grabbed his shoulder. Eren swore he could feel Levi’s nails lightly raking down his thigh. 

Armin said, “You don’t have to talk to us, but you can, if you want.”

Eren stared hard at his murky reflection in the old flatscreen in front of him. He pressed his lips together to stop them quivering. “It’s nothing I should be this upset about.”

“That,” Mikasa said, “is bullshit.”

“This coming from our favourite politically correct manic?” Armin said. “Remember that time when those bullies ripped the pages out of my book and I cried all recess? You didn’t tell me that it was just paper and ink. Although, maybe you could have not shoved the pages in their mouths.”

“I was stupid and selfish and shortsighted. I couldn’t think of a better punishment than mouth papercuts,” Eren said. “ Your grandfather gave you that book. It was important to you. They deserved to suffer.”

“Well, whatever is broken for you is just as important,” Armin said. “And if I can cry over a silly storybook that has over a million copies in the world, then you can cry over whatever is hurting you now.”

Eren stared hard at his reflection. His brows knitted at a severe angle and his eyes budded with tears. He sobbed, “Of course you’d be upset. The Giving Tree is a  _ beautiful _ fucking story.”

Finally, Eren broke down. Armin and Mikasa propped him up like bookends and squeezed him between them. They didn’t say anything for a time. They kept the pressure on either side and waited for the hearty sobs to subside and the tears to dam some. When his sadness took the foot off the brakes to let him breathe and speak, he told them about what happened with Zeke. Mikasa was livid when she heard his mother had been attacked and Armin looked like someone had wrecked a dozen of his most prized books when he heard that Grisha had lied for so long about a second son. Eren didn’t feel good when he saw his friends upset on his behalf, but he felt validated. Maybe he wasn’t making a mountain out of an anthill. Maybe these particular muscles of his heart hadn’t learned to endure this type of hurt.

“Eren,” Mikasa said after a spell of silence and mutual sniffles, “what’s Zeke’s last name?”

Eren blinked. “Uh, I guess it would be his mother’s maiden name, so Fritz.”

Mikasa let out a great breath. “Gods fucking dammit.”

***

Levi was breathing heavy. He wasn’t going to bitch and moan about this not being fair. Life wasn’t fucking fair, so why should a match set up by fallible humans be?

The crowd was cheering or maybe jeering. Levi didn’t give a shitting fuck. The guy Levi was facing off against, Bertholdt, was popular enough among fans, but even if he wasn’t, most of the audience would probably still be cheering for him over Levi. Levi was small and aggressive. Bertholdt was tall and composed. Levi probably looked like a chihuahua facing off against a great dane.

Bertholdt attempted a kick-punch combo, but nothing significant landed. Bertholdt might have the reach advantage and be a whole fucking foot taller than him, but he wasn’t fast. Still, Levi was getting tired and they still had one more round to go. Bertholdt’s pool-noodle arms had landed one or two clean hits, but Levi had succeeded in taking him down once. He just couldn’t pin the bastard. He’d have an easier time trying to climb one of those floppy, wavy-armed, dancing balloon men that used-car lots liked to decorate their already junky lawns with. And knowing that Bertholdt came out of the Warriors Gym, he had probably dehydrated himself before the weigh in to meet the weight requirement and used an IV to rehydrate, which meant he had several more pounds on Levi now.

“Strike him!” Kenny bellowed from his corner outside the ring. Levi did just that, dodging Bertholdt’s hook and catching him with an uppercut that split his lip. Levi wrinkled his nose as the blood went flying and involuntarily stepped back.

“Levi, get your ass back in there and take him down!” Kenny yelled over the increasing excitement of the crowd. More seemed to be cheering for him, either because he was the underdog and they had bet on him, or they just liked blood.

“Paint the floor!” Isabel yelled.

Levi’s hesitation almost hurt him, but Bertholdt’s brains must have been jostled by his bottom teeth being driven into his top row. Bertholdt retaliated too wide and was unbalanced enough that Levi could sweep his leg, mount him, and swing into an armbar. Even noodle arms had pain points, and Levi didn’t need to hunt too hard. Bertholdt tapped out in seconds.

Isabel bounced around his corner, getting the crowd to scream back “Humanity’s strongest” at her. Kenny declined a hug from her and met Levi at the edge of the octagon.

“You’re in a blood sport, Levi.”

“I know.”

Kenny sliced the air with his hand. “Then get fucking  _ used _ to blood.”

“And how do I do that? Visit a butcher’s shop and ask to roll in any carcasses they have on hand?” Levi put his hand out for a bottle of water and a towel.

“With that fucking mouth of yours, I’m surprised you care so much about cleanliness.”

“I get that from you.” Levi chugged the bottle dry and wiped the sweat from his face. “The filthy mouth that is. Gods know you didn’t raise me to be clean.”

Kenny re-rolled his shirt sleeves. “On that topic, Kuchel was asking after you.”

“What?”

“She’s seen your fights.”

“That’s not what I was surprised about. How is Kuchel related to raising me?” Levi tossed Kenny the bottle and towel.

Kenny’s brows furrowed at a mean angle. “I didn’t think I raised you to be a piece of shit.”

“She can take credit for that, if you want.”

“What the hell are you so pissed about?” Kenny seemed to be genuinely asking. “You just won a match that you filled in for on short notice, against a popular opponent, and you were the underdog. You gained a lot tonight, so what’s your problem?”

Levi shrugged. He wasn’t sure himself. Somehow, the mention of his estranged mother grated his nerves. “Nothing. I probably just need to get laid.”

Kenny shook his head. “Well, Levi, get fucked then.”

***

Eren and Mikasa were sitting in her bed, huddled together around her laptop. They had watched Levi’s match with bated breath and interesting curse words. They now watched Levi’s interview with the interviewer. Watching Levi eat punches hadn’t been fun. Eren had felt empathy’s hand making knots in his stomach that a boy scout would surely earn a badge for. 

When Levi did clinch a victory, Eren was happy and relieved. Levi wouldn’t come out with much damage. Mikasa muttered under her breath, “Fuck.”

Eren whipped around. “What? Were you cheering for Bertholdt?”

“No, but I should have bet on Levi. It would have been an awesome payout. Next time tell me to stake my grocery money on it.”

Eren stared incredulously at her. Since when was she financially irresponsible?

“So, Levi,” said the interviewer, “Humanity’s Strongest.”

“What a stupid fucking title,” Levi said.

The interviewer laughed, somewhat confusedly. “Uh, didn’t you pick it? I’m pretty sure it’s in your Twitter bio.”

“My roommate picked it. She said it was ‘cool’.”

“It’s certainly something to live up to. So how are you feeling about your win? You came in with only two weeks to train and—wow, the height difference too. You must be proud.”

“Sure.”

There was an awkward pause where the interviewer looked expectantly for Levi to say more than one word. Maybe people who knew Levi less would mistake his sagging shoulders as him being tired. Eren was willing to bet his own grocery money that his posture was his way of being covertly sassy.

When the interviewer kept the mic near his face, he added, “Yeah, I’m proud. Bertholdt’s a strong fighter. It was a good fight.”

“Right on. It seemed like in the first round you had some trouble. He got a couple clean shots. Were you concerned at all? He had quite the reach advantage.”

Levi’s brow twitched. “Yeah, he’s a foot taller than me. I’ve been fucking short my entire life and unless puberty strikes twice, I plan on being short for the rest of it. It doesn’t matter. If I get you on the ground, then I consider us the same fucking height.”

“Ha ha…yeah. Of course. Is there anyone you’d like to call out?”

“Nah, I’ll fight anyone. Especially if they piss me off.”

“Okay, well, thanks, Levi. Congrats on the win.” The interviewer made a swift exit lest Levi decided he had another three rounds in him.

Eren realized once the interview was over that with each word Levi uttered, he dug his own fingers deeper into his temple. Levi had once accused Eren of speaking around his bleeding heart. Eren thought Levi was worse than him. Levi’s tongue might actually be a third fist.

“He’s so fucking cool,” Mikasa said.

Eren gave her a skeptical look. Or maybe he just didn’t get the fighting world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you lucky enough to still have their wits, take them with you! However, leave the kudos and comments you’ve lost. They belong to me now.


	4. He Carries the Reminder of Every Glove that Laid Him Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking is hard when you're hardly talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: More overt discussion of past sexual assault and one brief mention of a graphic visual involving a bird and a ceiling fan.

#  Chapter 4: He Carries the Reminder of Every Glove that Laid Him Down

Levi scrubbed the tub. It was his favourite thing in their small apartment to clean, probably because the tub’s purpose in life was to clean other things. That and some of his best memories in the short five years he had lived up until then centred around the bath. He didn’t know then that the reason he and his mother bathed together was because it saved on money. All he knew was they were getting clean and the warm water she poured over his head felt good. There were many things in The Underground that were scary, but cleaning made him feel like he could make things right, which was dang close to happy.

“Levi!” His mother gasped from the doorway. She swooped in to take the sponge from his hand. He remembered she wasn’t even dressed yet, but it must have been late in the morning because the sunlight was blasting in. She had probably been wearing a long T-shirt that was so faded, the band logo was just patches of flakes. He remembered her rubbing at the base of his skull to let him know she wasn’t mad, just concerned. He didn’t tell anybody that even to this day, that motion still soothed him. “Baby, you shouldn’t be touching these cleaners all on your own. They could make you sick.”

He remembered thinking it was an odd thing to say. How could something clean make you sick?

Levi stayed in their bedroom at night alone. The apartment only had one bedroom because that was what his mother could afford. Actually, Levi found out later that she could only afford it before she had him and she had to repay the landlord in other ways.

Sometimes he would truly be alone in the apartment at night, and he slept light and short those nights. Sometimes he could look out the window and his mother would be on the corner of the street, talking to men he didn’t know, or bending in her highheels to get in the cars of men he also didn’t know. He didn’t sleep well those nights either because he couldn’t be sure she would be nearby. He only slept well when she crept into bed just before dawn and pulled him into her arms. She smelled of plain soap and that scent today still calmed him. When he bathed he felt he was washing off the things of the day that had bothered him, just like his mother was washing off the things the johns had done with her before curling her small body around her son.

Very rarely, and these were the nights he slept the worst, his mother would be home, but in the living room with one of the men Levi didn’t know. She would check if he was asleep and, if he was, she would quietly close the door. If he was awake, she would tell him to stay put and she would be with him in a couple hours. Levi didn't need to be told not to leave the room. Even at his young age he had the instincts of an alley cat and he would stay hidden beneath his blankets, listening to the dull beat of music beyond the bedroom walls. 

A couple times, a man would stumble into the bedroom, appearing as a wall of shadow and smelling sour, before his petite mother would get in front of him and place a hand on his chest to lead him out. They seemed content to pretend Levi didn’t exist and Levi felt likewise about them. Mostly, they were just shadows in his already slim memories.

But one time. Levi had fallen asleep and woke to hearing the beat of music from their living room that signalled his mother had someone over. Normally, he would listen to the pulses and eventually fall back asleep, but…he really had to pee. He waited for what he thought must have been _hours._ As an adult, he realized there was no way a john would pay for or last that long, and it was probably closer to 15 minutes that he waited for the music to switch off before slipping out of bed. He had cracked the door to check for shadowy figures before stepping out. Just as he did though, a man appeared in the hallway and Levi’s feral-cat instincts froze him. He didn’t spot Levi until he turned the bathroom light on, making Levi wince in the sudden light of the flickering bulb.

Levi didn’t remember exactly what the man said, but it was something along the lines of he was a good friend of Levi’s mother and, wow, how much he looked like her, petite and pretty. Levi didn’t know what was happening at the time, but he had a feeling that danger was near, like when his mother would hurry them across the road as a car drew nearer. The car was always far enough away, but the thought of getting run over pressed on Levi as this man kneeling before him did then. Pressing on him.

His mother, all five feet spare inches of her, descended shrieking on the man, pummelling him about the ears. He threw her off and she hit the wall hard enough to crack the drywall, but she kept on him until he was driven from the apartment, cursing and yelling as he went. When she came back to Levi, her bangs were sticking to her running mascara. She was shaking and sobbing so much, she couldn’t get words out. Levi was frozen. He didn’t understand what had happened. He thought she might be upset with him for leaving the room and for peeing his pants. 

She was bathing him when the cops showed up. When Levi had asked Kenny about ten years later what had happened that night, he said someone had heard the yelling and banging, and called the cops. They initially theorized Kuchel had been punishing Levi for not making it to the bathroom, but a simple conversation with Levi cleared that up. However, the conversation also revealed that Kuchel lied about having a domestic dispute with a boyfriend, and that one of her clients had assaulted Levi. They took Levi from her then and there. 

Kuchel had called Kenny, despite them being estranged for several years, and he managed to understand through her sobs that she needed him to take Levi in and not let him go into the foster system. Kenny never could say no to family.

*******

Levi woke up at four in the morning. When he reached for his water, he groaned and groaned again. The first groan was because he’d rolled onto his swollen cheek. The second groan was because the first groaned had hurt the joint between his upper and lower teeth. Both pain points were momentos from Bertholdt.

“Levi, you awake?” Isabel mumbled.

“I don’t fucking want to be.” He groaned internally this time. He didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with Isabel. Kenny had told her to check in on Levi throughout the night, just in case he was concussed or too sore to move. She translated that into bunking with Levi. If Furlan hadn’t had to work an early morning shift, he would have convinced her to stay in her own bed and groggily walked down to the basement to check on Levi himself. If Levi didn’t chuck something in the direction of the stairs, only then would Furlan even approach the bed.

She flicked the bedside lamp on. Her hair was a mess because she slept under the pillow. Levi didn’t know how she didn’t suffocate. That and what was the point of having a pillow if you weren’t going to lay on it? 

“Oh shit.” She gaped at his face. His bruises must be in full bloom. She grabbed her phone to snap a picture and showed it to him. “You look like that hunchbacked komodo-guy.”

“Quasimodo,” Levi said. He glanced at his picture. She wasn’t far off. Maybe if Quasimodo slammed face first into one of the bell towers of Notre Dame.

“You should have water.”

“Careful,” Levi warned as she leaned over him to grab the bottle off the nightstand. She tried to force-feed him. He gagged and snatched it away from her. “Are you trying to drown me, woman?”

“You spend all that time with Eren, I thought you’d be better at swallowing.”

Levi didn’t give her the satisfaction of gagging. It did take willpower not to laugh though. Isabel busied herself in her phone while Levi, with the speed and grace of a sloth with an inner-ear infection, got up to use the bathroom. Levi had expected to stumble back to bed and flop down for another couple hours. He didn’t expect Isabel to be waiting on the other side of door, shoving her cell phone up his nose.

“Do you have to take a shit that bad?” Levi asked.

“The phone, dumbass.” She passed it to him so he could use his visual senses instead of olfactory ones on it. “Look who tweeted you.”

Levi looked. “Isabel, why does someone threatening to bounce my face off his knee make you happy?”

Isabel stuck her tongue out. “Don’t be stupid. I want to see you shove your foot up his ass, which you totally could since he wants to fight you.”

Levi ruffled her hair as he walked past her. “Someone tweeting at me isn’t a contract.”

Isabel clenched her fists. All she needed was to stomp her foot to cement her in the childish category. She barked, “Well, it’s got hundreds of likes and retweets, and your followers have more than doubled in the last couple hours. And you have a couple DMs—Levi!”

Levi flopped in bed. “Stop yelling. You’ll wake Furlan.”

“Check your phone!”

“When the sun’s up and my face isn’t throbbing.”

Isabel swelled for a moment before making a dash for his phone charging on the bedside table. Levi made a grab, but flinched as he found a new momento of Bertholdt’s on his ribs. “Fucking hell, Isabel.”

“Cute rhyme.” Again, Isabel shoved a phone in his face. “What’s your password?”

Levi swiped at the phone, but she pulled it away. “The point of a password is so people don’t treat it like a public pool. I don’t want you dipping into my shit and pissing all over my stuff.”

“I thought you didn’t like public pools.”

“I don’t. Children are just piss factories that can talk.”

“I know, which is why instead of kids, I’m gonna have a whole pack of dogs. Maybe some cats too. And a horse.”

Levi grimaced. “Dogs are just as bad as kids. They drool and they don’t bathe. At least you’ve given up on that damn raccoon.”

“Don’t trash talk dogs! And I will  _ neve _ r give up on him. We’re just taking a break.” Isabel stood on the bed, glaring down at him. “I took him off bread and switched to cheese, but I think it bunged him up. It’s not funny Levi!”

There was a  _ thunk _ of angry feet slamming down on the floor as Furlan got out of his bed and strode in the direction of the stairs.

“You’ve done it now,” Levi said.

“No,  _ you’ve _ done it now.” She bounced on the bed. “Furlan likes dogs.”

“Not more than he likes sleep before a shift.” Levi motioned for the phone. “I’ll check it before Furlan buries you in the backyard.”

Levi had it unlocked by the time Furlan thudded down the stairs. He was pissed off enough that he hadn’t bothered to put sweatpants on over his boxers. “It’s 4:27 in the goddamn morning.”

Isabel pointed at Levi. “He was shit talking dogs.”

Furlan did actually stomp, which Levi raised a brow at and winced in pain. “I don’t care if he wants to reenact Old Yeller with his dumbbells instead of a shotgun so long as I can’t hear it.”

Isabel hopped off the bed. “What the fuck does an old man yelling have to do with Levi being a dog hater?”

“Old Yeller was a dog, dimwit. And they, his owners, shot him. I’ve got half a mind to do the same to you.”

“Not if I yeet you off Wall Sina!”

Furlan blinked. “What does that even mean? And why Sina? It’s a friggen tourist attraction. It’ll cost you a day’s pay just to get us up there.”

“It’d be  _ friggen _ worth it. Plus seniors get in for free on Tuesdays.”

“I’m a couple years older than you.”

“Could have fooled me with your old-man references and not knowing basic lingo.”

Levi sat up. “Okay, Isabel. You’re right.”

Isabel whipped around. “You’re willing to accept dogs into your heart?”

“Fuck no. But that tweet meant something.”

Isabel pumped her fists. “Yes!”

Furlan unfolded his arms and forgot to be pissed off for a second. “What? What is it?”

Isabel wrapped her arms around Furlan and lifted him a foot off the ground. Levi made sure he said his non-lumpy brow this time when Furlan blushed and spluttered to put him down. Isabel said, “Levi’s gonna fight The Beast!”

*******

Eren spooned cereal into his mouth as he scrolled through the subreddit for Maria. Some high school friends were chatting up a new gay bar called the In and Out. Marco had commented saying the music was awesome, but the drinks overpriced. Jean replied, ribbing Marco over the fact that he barely paid for the drinks what with his boyish freckles. Ymir called them lame for flirting and got downvoted by her own girlfriend. In real life, they were far less flirty. Marco was mild mannered and Jean an idiot. Annie said she’d had enough of being around sweaty men, but would go if this was the venue Armin selected to celebrate his birthday. Eren looked up across the table at Armin. He was in his pyjamas and looked like he might have left his brain in bed. He somehow managed to type out a cordial “I’d prefer somewhere quieter, but so long as you’re all there, anywhere is fine.” This time when Ymir called Armin out for being flirty, her girlfriend upvoted her. Eren looked from his phone to Armin, who confused his mug with his cereal bowl and got a spoonful of coffee instead of cornflakes. He didn’t react in any sort of way, so Eren didn’t say anything.

But speaking of crushes, Eren hadn’t heard from Levi in a couple weeks. Well, he’d seen him at Erwin’s dojo, tossing other students and, on occasion, Eren. But Levi had had that match with Bertholdt, and Armin had that theory about Levi using Eren as a pre-match stress ball. Armin’s theory was disproved when Levi’s match with Bertholdt came and went, and Eren neither came nor went from Levi. Armin had shrugged and said it was only a theory based on some correlations, so maybe there was more to Levi than habit.

Eren was almost simple enough to accept that. He waved his spoon in Armin’s direction. “What about if there was something different or something had caused the…the result to be different?”

Armin yawned as he too scrolled through his phone. “Like an uncontrolled variable?”

“Yes. I think. It’s been a while since I studied science.”

Armin gave him a quizzical look. “You’re taking biology.”

“I meant like math science.”

Armin shrugged. Mikasa joked that Armin took the longest to wake up because his brain was so vast it required several more neurons than most to flip the lights on. Eren tried not to think about what that meant for him since he could leap out of bed most days.

Armin said, “Since you don’t know much about Levi’s life and factoring in that we’re talking about  _ human beings _ , which have a bit more free will than your average chemical, it’s kind of hard to tell whether outside factors interfered. But I have some time before class to throw ideas around, especially if you’re driving me.”

“Yeah, of course I’ll take you.” Eren stared hard at the table and gripped his spoon. “So, I think I’m the uncontrolled variable.”

Armin sighed. “That’s a more PC term than suicidal maniac at least.”

Eren explained, “Last time I went over to Levi’s I was in a weird headspace. I’d just found out about, y’know, the thing with Zeke.”

“I wouldn’t say that name too loud,” Armin mumbled into his coffee, “Mikasa is still kind of prickly since she was a pretty big Zeke fan. She’s not mad with you, of course. That and it hurt her pride a bit that you went to Levi first and not her. She’s been cleaning up our messes since preschool and is proud to be our badass custodian.”

Eren thumped his head on the table. “I know. You guys have been great. I am sorry.”

Armin yawned as he shook his head. “I’m just glad you went to someone. There’s still such a stigma around men talking about their feelings and mental health.”

Eren slapped his hands on the table, nearing spilling the last soggy bits of his breakfast. “I  _ know _ . Toxic masculinity is such a bastard.”

Armin rubbed his brow. “So why do you think you threw Levi off?”

“Because he could probably sense that I was off.”

“Okay, but Levi’s not an animal. He’s not going to scent your mental anguish and kick dirt over you.”

Eren jabbed the air with his spoon. “It’s worse than him being an animal. He’s an  _ introvert _ . He’s constantly thinking to himself and reflecting and he doesn’t just yell his feelings out.”

Armin chugged his coffee. His neural network probably needed a jumpstart if it hoped to puff alongside Eren’s cliff-ward bound train of thought. He was saved from Eren’s tirade by Mikasa walking out in workout clothes and a towel around her neck.

She said, “I heard some slamming and raised voices over my music.”

Armin gestured at Eren, “He was talking about toxic masculinity and introversion.”

Mikasa nodded.

“Mikasa, do you think I could be an uncontrolled variable?” Eren asked.

She shrugged. “You do fly off the rails easily, if that’s what you mean. Why do you ask?”

“I feel like I might have spooked Levi off. I didn’t know about his last fight until you told me you were watching it.” Eren considered his wonky upside down reflection in the spoon. “He trains hard at the dojo and takes off quickly after.”

Mikasa rubbed her arm and sought guidance from the linoleum flooring. “He could just be training. Newcomers usually fight more frequently than veterans.”

“Sure, but he’s been fighting professionally for almost a year now. Why increase his training now?”

“Eren.” Mikasa said sharply. This caught both boys’ attention. The expression on her face was tight and she now looked ready to dropkick the linoleum.

“Mikasa?” Eren asked. She rarely got angry with them. Perhaps she really was prickly about Eren not going to her.

“It’s just,” she continued to look at flooring, “don’t you have more important things to think about?”

Eren was taken aback. “What?”

“I mean with your family,” she said lightly.

Eren thumped the poor table again. “What the hell do you mean by that? Of course I’m thinking about them.”

“I want to ensure your priorities are straight. You’re focused on Levi—”

“I’m focused on Levi because I can’t do anything about Zeke and my family,” Eren countered. “They won’t let me near the bastard.”

This time Mikasa abused the table and its legs actually groaned. “For  _ damn _ good reason.”

Armin jumped at the sound, but Eren’s thick skull protected him from common sense. “This is the real world, Mikasa. There has to be consequences and Zeke might be some god in the fighting world, but if we could talk—hey!”

Mikasa grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt. Armin preemptively clutched his coffee to his chest in case it was table-flipping season.

“And I’m telling you you’re wrong.”

“But—”

“Listen.” She didn’t yell it. She wasn’t the yelling type. She belonged to that special class of people who possessed quiet rage and she rarely employed it. Eren decided shutting his mouth was probably the wisest thing he could do. She let go of his shirt and her expression smoothed.

“I’ve been watching Zeke for years. I’m not saying I know everything about him or what his life outside of the fighting world is truly like, but I know some things.”

Eren looked his friend over and felt like an ass when he realized she was hurting too.  _ Of course she is, idiot. She practically grew up with you _ . Eren, much more calmly, asked, “What is it, Mikasa?”

“Zeke is one of the most violent fighters, in and outside the octagon. He’s had so many scandals. There was one time he made an appearance at a kid’s birthday party and ended up body slamming the kid’s dad into the birthday cake.”

Armin looked shocked. “And he wasn’t kicked out of the professional fighting world?”

Mikasa shook her head. “In about any other sport, he would have been, but this sport is about violent assholes beating up other violent assholes. It’s a weird world.”

Eren clenched his fists. “So, you’re telling me the fighting world has no sense of justice or honour?”

“I’m saying it’s a business and the business makes money by how many people watch. And Zeke draws a lot of views.” Mikasa once again looked to the linoleum for comfort. “I’ve paid to see him, you know.”

The tension when out of Eren and his face must have looked shocked because Armin, coffee thankfully finally kicking in, said swiftly, “You didn’t know.”

“I knew he was an asshole, but I found it amusing.” She folded her arms. “Like nothing he did really hurt anyone or the people he did hurt had signed up for it. Even that kid and his dad, they go to his every match and cheer him on. And I thought he was cool for getting away with so much. But it turns out he’s just a rich asshole pissing on those below him because he can.”

“Mikasa, just stop,” Eren said gently. He was starting to understand now why she had been so upset upon hearing that Zeke was a fighter she watched. She felt guilty for supporting someone that had hurt Eren’s mother. Eren said, “Do you remember when we were protesting against Nick-fil-A’s because of its corporate leaders’ homophobic views?”

Maybe the coffee hadn’t quite reached all the parts of Armin’s brain because neither he nor Mikasa seemed to know where Eren was going with this. She said, “Yes?”

Eren continued, “Ymir brought Historia along. We didn’t know anything about her except she was the daughter of the parent company’s CEO and Pastor Nick, the religious nut job the company was named after, was her godfather. We couldn’t figure out why Ymir would be friends with such a person or why she thought it would be a good idea to stick a sign in her hand and have her march with us.” 

Eren remembered his fists had been shaking when this had happened. Ymir looked like she would rip Eren’s head off and kick it through the fast-food restaurant’s store front window if he lit into Historia. And then Historia, all 4’7” of her, had snatched Eren’s megaphone, climbed to the roof of the restuarant, and announced to the world that she was a lesbian and dating Ymir. When she came down, Ymir had proposed to her for the first time. Historia then turned the megaphone on her and yelled that 15 was far too young for marriage, and to ask again when they’d been dating for more than a week.

“I hated Historia when we first met because of her association with my current object of hate. But that wasn’t fair or right. Hell, even I had ordered food from Nick’s in the past and unfortunately, it was damn delicious.” Eren forced himself to stop gritting his teeth. “My point is, it’s not your fault that Zeke was a monster to my mother even if you supported him. Gods, if I let you think that, my mom would probably pinch my cheek right off.”

Mikasa let out a slow breath. “Okay. That’s one load off my mind.”

“You should have said something sooner,” Eren reprimanded. “There was no need for you to carry that guilt around.”

Mikasa put her hands on her hips. “Sort of like how you should have spoken to Levi about your feelings months ago instead of having a panic attack on our couch.”

Eren choked on his cornflakes and Mikasa slapped him none too delicately on the back. With tears in his eyes, he said, “Yes, exactly like that.”

Eren considered his last few mouthfuls of soggy cereal. Maybe he was chasing the wrong rabbit. Maybe he should focus less on Levi and more on healing with his family. But the part of him that wanted to heal felt that he needed to meet with Zeke and nobody thought that was a good idea except for him. That and he liked Levi. 

Eren looked up in time to see Armin show Mikasa something on his phone and her nod solemnly in response. Armin shut the screen off when Eren noticed.

Eren opened his mouth to ask what was wrong in the world now, but Mikasa beat him to it. “When I was in my room, I thought maybe all the slamming was because you were upset about Zeke again.”

“I’m  _ always _ upset about Zeke.” Eren squeezed his spoon.  _ Zeke _ . Even the name sounded evil to him now.  _ He’d probably fit in with the Chads, Cheds, and Kyles of the world _ . Eren blinked. “Wait, why would  _ you _ think I’d be upset about Zeke?”

Mikasa said, “I thought maybe you had heard that Levi will be fighting Zeke in a month.”

Eren stood up so fast that he would have tipped the table if Mikasa hadn’t caught it. Still, his bowl ejected the dregs of his cereal. “He—they—what? How? How is that even—? I thought you said they were too different in size? That doesn’t make sense, right?”

“The divisions go by weight,” Mikasa said, flicking a cornflake off her sports bra. “Their weight classes actually aren’t far off. Zeke usually fights in the Beastweight division, but he’ll cut weight to fight one division lower, in the Attackweight division. Levi fights in the Foundingweight division, and one level higher is the Attackweight. So, Levi’s going to have to put on some weight and Zeke is gonna have to cut some.”

“But  _ why _ ?”

“Why are they fighting? Zeke blew up on Twitter at Levi after he beat Bertholdt. Bertholdt is one of Zeke’s dojo mates. It sounds like he wants to avenge him.”

“But…” Eren was having trouble wringing words out of his emotions. He slumped back in his chair. “But…why…no.”

Armin straightened his mug as he translated for Eren. “Surely this isn’t the first time one of Zeke’s friends has been beaten. Why is he so aggravated this time?”

Mikasa shrugged. “I don’t know. Fans are pretty divided on that. Most thought Levi and Bertholdt fighting was a bad match due to the height differences. By all logic and probability, Levi should have lost and some fans think it was a fluke that he won. Also, Levi gained a lot of supporters after the fight, which might mean Bertholdt has less value now. The more in demand you are, the more money you make.”

Armin nodded. “So fans think Zeke is mad because Levi’s not skilled, just lucky, and he’s detracted from Bertholdt’s popularity and winnings.”

“That’s not it,” Eren said, finding his voice, but definitely not a pleasant version of it. He sounded like someone had a chokehold on him. “Zeke  _ is _ an animal and animals don’t think. He’s pissed because he was already pissed off. He’s just taking out his rage on what he thinks is an easy target.”

“Though I agree a match between Zeke and Levi probably means Levi’s winning streak will finally be broken,” Mikasa said, “Levi is not an easy target. And I’m not just saying that because I’m team #HumanitysStrongest.”

“Yeah, but Zeke’s a dumb animal,” Eren spat, gripping the table hard enough to make the cheap wood creak. “He probably took one look at Levi and thought Levi was a tick he scratched off his hairy, ape ass. But he doesn’t know what’s coming for him.”

Mikasa and Armin shared a concerned look. Armin said, “We’re still talking about Levi being the one coming for Zeke, right?”

Eren looked at him, his face the definition of foul. “Of course. I mean, I’d love to wipe the floor with him, but I know that’s not a good idea.”

Mikasa tossed a towel over Eren’s head. “The only thing you’ll be wiping is the table.”

Eren ripped the towel off his head and was filling his lungs for a retort, but Mikasa put him in a guillotine. He struggled, but she had arms that never feared opening a pickle jar.

“I mean that, Eren.”

***

Levi cranked the shower off, dried, and put his clothes back on. When he opened the bathroom door onto the bedroom, light and the last wisps of steam spilled into the dark.

“All clean?”

Levi turned his head towards the bed more for the other person’s benefit. His eyes hadn’t adjusted yet and all he could make out was a body lying on its side. “No, for the past 15 minutes I was taking a shit.”

“Oooh. I hope it was a good one.”

Levi sat on the corner of the bed. “Hange?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re fucking weird.”

Hange laughed. “You’ve been saying that since high school, but each time you say it, it sounds different. Before, when we were kids, it sounded like you meant it, but tonight it sounds like you're saying you love me.”

Levi stood up. “I’m leaving.”

She pulled him back down by his belt loop. “You know I didn’t mean romantically, but I get it. That’s a sensitive nerve. Talk with me, Levi. That’s the thing I miss most about our friendship.”

“Talk about what?”

He heard her patting around the bedside table for her glasses. “You asked, so I get to pick the topic. Let’s see, I kind of lost track of you after your fighting debut. It’s been several months since we talked and almost half a year since we had sex. So, who’s the new person or people—I won’t judge—you’ve been fooling around with instead?”

Levi closed his eyes. The problem with old friends was the same thing that made pet parents great; over time, they learned which grumbles and growls were annoyed noises, and how many they could elicit before getting bitten. And Hange, despite not being his oldest friend, could read him the best and feared him the least. “I never said I was fucking someone else.”

“Levi, you’re tired. Let’s just straight talk and not make me have to list why I think you are sleeping with other people besides me.” She sat up in bed and turned a lamp on. She sat atop the covers, naked. Levi didn’t get how she wasn’t freezing. She patted the spot next to her. “We know you’ll either talk or leave.”

Levi let out a slow breath and scooted up to sit beside her. “His name is Eren.”

“Does he go to my university or one of the sister colleges? I’ve got a couple Eren’s in my classes.”

“He’s in college, but I wouldn’t know. I’m not sure what he’s majoring in.”

Hange looked at Levi’s folded arms. “You don’t do much talking then?”

“We do talk, but usually about martial arts. I met him at Erwin’s dojo. He worked his way up, stuck around even after I hassled him. He asked me to show him some jiu-jitsu.” Levi shrugged. “I figured he put up with my assholery, so he deserved something in return.”

“‘Deserved something in return’, huh? And what did he get in return? Some skills on the mat or in your bed?”

“Both.”

Hange ignored him. “Or maybe what he really got was time spent with you.”

“He did have to be with me to stick his dick up my ass.”

Hange giggled. “I’ll bet. So what happened to Eren?”

“He’s still around. I see him at the dojo.” Levi stared into his own eyes in Hange’s dresser mirror. He could see her looking him over for some bullshit tell.

“You don’t see him outside of the dojo?”

“I don’t have time. I have to prepare for my fight with Zeke the Bastard.”

“You found time to see me though.”

“I needed to get off.” Levi bowed his head. He could just say he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t need to be a piece of shit to her. “And I enjoy your company most of the time.”

She threw an arm around his shoulders. “I’m okay if you just needed to have sex because I know you enjoy my company. You don’t have to explain that. You don’t really have to explain anything. I’m curious and concerned about you.”

Levi looked at her. “Why are you concerned?”

She shrugged. “I might be reading into your words too much. When you wanted to go pro to pay Kenny and Erwin back, I understood that, even if the two of them said it was unnecessary. But when you’re talking about owing someone who’s somewhere between an intimate partner and a friend because they ‘put up’ with you, that doesn’t sound right. He shouldn’t be putting up with you, he should be enjoying his time with you.”

“He does. Eren’s good.” Levi crossed his legs. “Even when we have a difference of opinion he tells me he respects mine still or I’m valid. Y’know, the kind of shit that makes you want to shove your knuckles in someone’s gut and just  _ twist _ .”

“Hm. I prefer to show affection by dissecting people’s minds.”

Levi said dryly, “I’m aware.”

Hange asked, “Do you like him?”

Levi stared her down. His brow furrowed deeper and deeper while her face remained simply curious. What was with people asking him this? You would think more people would be interested in his career choice as opposed to his love life. He was fairly certain there were more people dating and fucking than there were professional fighters in the world.

Levi thought about giving her some BS answer, like “I wouldn’t hang out with him if I didn’t like him”, but she’d already called him out on that shit. He was still going to huff about it though. “Yes, I do, but I’m not looking for a relationship. I barely get time to take a shit these days. I don’t have time to wipe his ass too.”

Hange leaned forward, grinning. “Because that’s what a relationship is, wiping your partner’s ass?”

Levi’s  _ tch _ ed. “I literally have slots in my agenda that tell me when and what to eat. I don’t have time to take him for milkshakes and give his emotions a hand job when he’s torn up about shit. I don’t have the fucking time.”

“What about in a month?”

Levi glowered. “What do you mean?”

“In a month you’ll have your fight with Zeke and then you won’t have to spend all that time counting reps and calories. Also, your body is due for a break.” Hanje poked Levi’s bicep. “Even for a newbie in the octagon, you’ve been fighting a lot.”

Levi snorted. “How would you know that?”

Hange ran her hand along his shoulders and rubbed at the base of his neck. “I love research and my friends, so researching my friends’ interests is a treat.”

“Then you know that fighting Zeke isn’t the end.”

“True, but win or lose, you’re going to make some serious money. Enough to slow down and live.”

Levi shook his head. “How rosey. I’ll still have to work a job, I’ll still need to train more often than not. And even if I didn’t, I’m not that big of a shit to ask Eren to wait around until my schedule allows. What a fucked up thing to ask.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t need to be feeling up on your shoulders to know how tense you are. We can discuss something else. You pick.”

Even without the added 20 pounds of muscle he’d put on, he would have felt his muscles relax. “What about you? You seeing anyone?”

“Nah, not seriously.” Hange rested her head on Levi’s shoulder. He could feel her laugh. “I’m pretty popular at the college bars. I just make sure I’m not bringing my students home, which can be really tricky, especially if I go for the quiet ones. They tend to hang at the back of class and don’t engage with me, so I don’t always remember their faces.”

“They also wouldn’t be the type to hit on you though.”

She stretched her arms above her head. “True, but I’d go for them. That’s how we became friends, right?”

Levi snorted. “Sure.”

They had met in high school, although no one really met Hange. Hanje met you. Usually she’d do so with a lot of jumping about, on things, or, only when she found you considerably interesting or meek, on you. She had definitely thought Levi interesting and mistakenly thought him meek. She stood corrected and very nearly laid-flat-on her-back corrected after her meeting ritual. And, because she hadn’t run, shrunk, or ejected any bodily fluids after Levi chewed her out with his dead eyes and sneer, he liked her. Furlan didn’t quite get their friendship since Levi couldn’t stand mess and Hange was mess personified, but Isabel warmed to her instantly.

“Actually, that reminds me. I’ve got a new therapist. She’s really good.”

Hanje being a mess, but also a functioning human being meant she was good at cleaning up messes, including mental ones. She was the first of few friends who talked about therapy, trauma, and mental pain like she was talking about weekend plans. Apart from being a good ear for his filthy-worded frustrations, she was also supportive of him seeking counselling. Kenny had provided a home and clothes, and he also taught Levi how to fight and work hard. But he never thought to take Levi to talk to someone. Levi, despite liking to talk about his feelings as much as he liked being coated in someone else’s blood, was still grateful Hange had dragged him to the school counsellor’s office to discuss the trauma that the art class had felt went a sparrow had accidentally gotten in and caught up in the ceiling fan. In a sick way, Levi had found the irony of a symbol of freedom meeting an inglorious and gruesome demise funny, but he also found the counsellor to be less hippy-dippy-bullshitty than he thought they would be.

“What happened to your old one?”

“She moved. She offered to meet online, but I would prefer in person if I can.” 

Hange asked, “Have you talked to anyone recently?”

“No, not since the last asshole.”

“The one who told you that since you could have sex that you were cured? Yeah, fuck that guy.” Hange finally wrapped the blankets around herself. “My nipples are hard and it’s not because you’re here.”

“Want me to close the window when I leave?” Levi asked. It was firmly fall now, but her condo was colder than his basement bedroom.

“Nah, I like to hear the traffic. It’s soothing.”

“Sure, the sounds of blaring road rage and fart cans are so relaxing.”

Hange laughed. She took her glasses off again and Levi stood up. She said, “Some traffic sounds aren’t as pleasant as others. But all of them fill the room and make me feel less alone.”

She was staring at him, but knowing her eyesight, she could probably only see a small human-shaped fuzz in her bedroom doorway. To Levi’s better than perfect vision, she looked like she was staring into his eyes and out the back of his head. Fucking Hange.

“Good night,” he told her.

***

Levi had been elusive the last month and a half, though it was no mystery to Eren as to why. He was training and would be for the next few weeks. Then he would be facing Zeke. This match wasn’t only straining Levi though. Levi’s recent uptick had meant an uptick at Erwin’s dojo as well, which meant Erwin needed more assistance with the newer recruits. Since Levi was half of the more senior students, it meant Eren was picking up the slack.

“Good form, Taylor. Just don’t lose balance. Al, don’t actually punch your brother.” Eren had turned his back on the children for only a second and half of them were picking their noses or staring at the ceiling like the gods had duct taped the answers to life’s questions up there. He ran a hand through his hair. How the hell did Erwin manage nearly 20 kids on his own? Even if he didn’t have a tolerance and sometimes taste for pain, Eren would rather take a fist to the mouth before being responsible for a dozen kids who thought fart jokes were the height of humour. “Tamara, blowing a raspberry is not a kiai.”

“It is if you’re a little turd.”

Eren turned around to order whichever kid said that to do 50 pushups, but he ended up biting his tongue. It was Levi. Wait, no. Wait,  _ yes _ . It was Levi, but he was bigger. If it wasn’t for Levi being a very short man and Erwin a very tall one, Eren might have mistaken Levi for their exceptionally buff sensei, at least from the neck down.  _ All bodies are beautiful _ , Eren reminded himself,  _ but _ …The cost of those biceps seemed to be weeks of little sleep and the light in Levi’s eyes. He looked exhausted.

A couple kids had heard Levi’s comment and were giggling. Levi swivelled his gaze at them, stomping out their joy before it could spread. “Line up, you brats. Not you, Eren.”

“Oh, right.” He wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing. A bunch of 10 year olds snickering at him or that his body responded so naturally to being called brat.

They bowed the kids out and began sweeping the floor before their class started. Eren shuffled words in his head, but couldn’t settle on whether “Hey, I haven’t seen you in a while” sounded too starved for attention or if “Wow, you’re looking mighty swol” sounded too thirsty.

“How have you been?” Levi muttered.

_ Swamped with midterms, deking both my parents out of guilt and resentment, unsuccessfully plotting revenge against my half-brother, and pining for you _ . “Okay, I guess. You? You look…great.”

Levi swept up some toenail bits, wrinkling his nose. He was fucking tired. He was single-minded. He was starting to realize he was lonely. He was irate because of all of the above. He was fine. “Good enough.”

Eren gripped his broom like a mast in a storm. He just might go down with this ship, but he needed to know. “Levi, I know it’s been a while since we talked, but I’ve been thinking and I’ve wanted to ask you—”

Erwin entered the dojo and they snapped their attention to the front. They bowed. Erwin asked, “Eren, I take it you know Levi has an important fight coming up?”

They hadn’t started exercising and Eren felt sweat bead on his scalp. Was Erwin psychic? Did he know what Eren had been about to ask? “Yes, sir.”

“And I’ve heard you’ve been studying jiu-jitsu with Levi?”

Eren looked to Levi who shrugged. “Not—not recently. But a bit.”

Erwin moved to stand before him. In a bar lit by neon lighting, Eren might have been turned on by the tall glass of testosterone that was Erwin Smith. In his dojo though, staring up at his nostril hair, Eren considered making his pants a public toilet.

“Would you be willing to spend this time helping Levi train?” Erwin asked.

Levi raised a brow. “I thought we were training after class.”

Erwin said to Levi. “We can, if Eren would prefer to proceed with class as usual. But if he’s alright with training to your schedule and needs, then you could get home earlier and get some rest tonight.”

“Kenny’s not here yet.”

“Yeah, I am.” Kenny was leaning against the doorway. Kenny tipped his hat to Erwin. “You’ve got nice mats in here. Mine are probably stuffed with rats and as old as the gods.”

Levi sneered. “Real nice of you to spring this on Eren like that. You’re an ass, Kenny.”

Erwin raised his hand. “It was my idea, actually.”

“Well, you’re a double ass then.”

“I’ll do it,” Eren said quickly, before anyone could be called a triple ass. When Levi gave him his dead-eye look that made Eren want to curl up on himself as well as make his heart explode, he added, “I’d like to. I want to. Your training is probably a great way to learn anyway.”

Eren waited for a deadpan jibe or a headlock. Levi just said, “Okay.”

They ran a couple lengths of the dojo, did a handful of squats and pushups, stretched and then got into. They started with Levi throwing punches at the pads Kenny and Eren wore while Erwin watched and critiqued. When Levi’s fist met one of his hands, he felt the recoil tingle almost to his shoulder. He might have also felt a tingle just below his belt, but thankfully gi pants are loose.

“C’mon, Levi, are you trying to swat the flies away from your shit performance?” Kenny jeered, taking a swipe at Levi and just barely missing the tip of his ear. Levi, ever the man of few words, responded with an uppercut that Eren was surprised didn’t launch Kenny.  _ I wouldn’t mind if he swept me off my feet _ .  _ Dammit, Eren, that’s not appropriate for several reasons. _

While Kenny shook his wrists out, Levi met Eren’s eyes. He felt adrenaline ring the shrill and alarming bell in his brain. Eren discovered that gi pants were also good at hiding how thick Levi’s thighs had become. His kick did drop Eren on his back. The air and a bit of his spirit exited his body. Levi dropped his fists and went to offer him a hand, but Kenny chucked a glove at his head.

“This isn’t fucking soccer where the game gets paused because some asshole stubs his toe. Mount him!”

They locked eyes, like a rabbit twitching nothing but its nose and a cat low in the grass. Eren got one foot underneath him before Levi was on top of him, going for an armbar—Eren snaked his hand away and dared to go for a single-hand lapel choke. Levi let out a breathy laugh that Eren felt on his cheek. The embers were being stoked in Levi’s eyes and Eren was catching their warmth.

Levi broke away and gave Eren a hands-on choking lesson. Eren tapped as his head began to feel fuzzy and Levi sat back as he normally did on Eren’s abdomen. Eren didn’t want to come across as weight shaming, but he thought Levi could crack his pelvis as easily as the probably dozen eggs he ate weekly.

“On your feet, Levi,” Kenny barked. “You can sit on him on your own time.”

Kenny was clearly the jiu-jitsu master since he could make Eren choke from halfway across the room.

“Let’s trade out,” Erwin said, gesturing for Eren to move out of the way. “Eren, even if you’re not sparring, you can still learn by watching.”

And he did learn. He now knew he should have feared Erwin more than already did. It was a testament to Levi’s footwork and balance that he didn’t get blasted through the dojo’s walls. Their yelling and hits landing, even with padding and gloves, were still enough to make the custodian vacuuming in the hallway stick his head in just to check nobody was doing a murder. Erwin did eventually sweep Levi’s foot but he rolled back up like a measuring tape being reeled in.

“Not bad for someone who hasn’t earned their black belt yet,” Erwin said.

Levi gave Erwin an amused look. “Your trash talk is weak.”

“Good, it matches your kicks then. I’m surprised you can even get them above my belt from down there.”

Erwin caught a roundhouse that Eren thought was impressive, but Erwin frowned. “Actually, you’ve lost a bit of flexibility and speed with your added weight. Zeke and I are about the same height. I’d focus less on head and body kicks in your fight.”

Eren felt the valves of his heart clench and burst open again to let in the tides of rage. Eren hadn’t thought much about Zeke’s physical appearance. He had looked the guy up so that he could recognize him, but he hadn’t realized how tall he was. A wave of guilt slipped in with his anger. No wonder his mother was so shaken. The guy was huge. Eren stared at his feet.  _ Maybe I shouldn’t _ …

“Alright, alright.” Kenny was waving Erwin off.

“Your turn, old man?” Levi panted. 

“Ha. Not just me. You’re fighting Zeke the Beast and even if he fights a fight so clean that even your tenders are tickled, he could still stomp your puny body. Eren, get your sorry ass up. Eren!”

Eren hopped to his feet and joined Kenny.

Levi furrowed his brows. “Is Zeke a dirty fighter?”

Eren stared worriedly at Kenny’s grizzled face. Kenny shrugged. “By your standards, yeah. He cuts weight and gains it back like most assholes, but he won’t gouge your eyes. He likes blood though, whether it’s his or his opponent’s. Like a pig in a bloody sty. You’ll see soon when we do your academic training.”

Eren caught Levi’s nose wrinkle. His own stomach flipped, just not because he found mess gross. Everything he found out about Zeke, he hated. Though Eren suspected that even if Zeke donated most of his winnings to ending violence against women and scrubbed sea turtles down on his days off, he’d still hate the bastard. He hoped Levi did lasting damage to the guy.  _ That’s a bit harsh... _

“We’ll strike you at the same time, but if one of us gets you down and mounts you, the other will back off. Got that Eren? Eren!”

Eren shook himself and when he realized what a maniac he must look like, he slapped his cheeks. Judging by the odd stares the others were giving him, the slap hadn’t done much in defending his sanity.

“Gods, kid. Save some of that face for Levi to beat. Alright, last round.”

Eren, despite having the instincts of a ram in mating season, hung back. Rams probably even thought twice before diving between rabid wolves. Kenny might be old, but the bastard was wily. Only after watching him for a solid minute did Eren feel like he might not get in the way if he threw a single punch and retreated. Kenny wouldn’t have any half-assery from either of them though. He caught Levi’s elbow and shoved him at Eren. “One of you fuck the other one up.”

Eren considered wiggling his nose and thumping his foot like the dumb bunny he was. Levi lunged, Eren retreated, and retreated again. The third time he wasn’t so lucky and caught a fist to his gut. He had just enough wits to brace himself when Levi took out his feet. He tried rolling like Levi had, but he was too slow. He tried to turtle up in defence, but Levi got behind him and stretched one of his arms out with his legs and the other one with one of his arms. Then he snaked his one free arm around Eren’s throat. Eren tapped.

Kenny whistled. “Nice crucifix, kiddo. Let’s end on that high note.”

Eren sat up and rubbed his throat. He hadn’t tried it before, but he just might be interested in choking. 

Levi knelt next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m great.”

Levi raised a brow and gave a little nod. “I can see that.”

“At the risk of being called an asshole again, Eren do you think you could give Levi a ride home?” Kenny asked as he donned his coat and hat.

“Sure, of course.”

Levi called after Kenny’s back. “And why can’t you take me?”

“Because I’ve got better things to do.” Kenny flicked the brim of his hat. “How about you?”

Erwin followed Kenny out. “Sweep up and lock up. Well done, both of you.”

***

Levi was curled up in the front seat of Eren’s car, looking out the window. They hadn’t said much to each other. Levi had asked if Eren remembered the way, and Eren replied that he never did, he just always used his GPS.

Levi was exhausted and the gently blurred lights outside in the dark city were lulling. But training had been good. Fun, even. Eren was shit if Levi wanted to practice his moves with any sort of challenge, but having him there buoyed his spirits. Levi partially blamed Hange for this. She was good at unpacking Levi’s baggage and helping him organize its contents in a way that gave him room for other perspectives.

Levi looked over his shoulder at Eren. At every red light, he’d grip the steering wheel tight and stare at the light impatiently.

Levi thought about asking if Eren was alright. He’d been less focussed than usual. Although, what was Eren’s usual these days? Levi only went to four places: Erwin’s dojo, Kenny’s dojo, work, and bed. He didn’t see anyone that didn’t exist around those places either. Levi decided to wait until they stopped driving before casting any questions that might take Eren’s eyes off the road.

Eren pulled up to the curb outside the house Levi rented. The living room light was on. Levi could make out Furlan reading the fucking newspaper. Who even read the newspaper anymore? They had apps for that shit nowadays.

“This…this is yours, right?” Eren knew this was Levi’s place, but he couldn’t think of a better way to start a conversation without actually saying, “Let’s have a conversation.”

Levi stared at him. He knew that Eren knew that this shithole was indeed his abode. “Eren, you want to come in for a moment?”

“You’re tired…” Eren began lamely.

“Don’t be lame. Just come in.”

***

Furlan heard them come in. Well, he heard Levi come in and welcomed him home. With a nod from Levi, Eren called out a hello. Furlan got out of his chair and walked over. He said hi to Eren and stared hard at Levi who averted his gaze. Levi didn’t quite know his own mind and he didn’t need Furlan prodding for answers.

Furlan uncrossed his arms and blinked. Before Furlan could make any awkward comments, Levi said, “I’m tired. Eren and I are going to have a quick chat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right. Okay,” Furlan said. “Yeah. Sure. Right.”

Levi stared flatly at him. “Good night, Furlan.”

“Good night. See you around, Eren.”

Eren had no fucking clue what telepathic conversation had passed between those two, but it didn’t bother him. If Eren understood what subtle meant, he too probably would have similar conversations with Armin and Mikasa. Actually, he was fairly certain his friends did have such things, and they were usually about him.  _ Am I really just picking up on that? No wonder no one ever gives me a meaningful look _ .

Levi looked at him and Eren’s brain, despite having its workers dashing about doing over time, couldn’t decipher the look. But his heart received the message. Now, if only his head could find the cerebral department capable of translating heart speak.

Levi threw his gym bag in the corner where he kept his workout equipment. Eren noticed that some weights and mats were out, either because Levi used them so frequently there was no point in putting them away or because he was too tired to properly clean up these days.

Levi followed Eren’s gaze and sighed. “I know. Fucking mess. If it bothers you, I can put it away.”

“No, no. I’m not bothered if you’re not bothered. But are you sure you’re not too tired to talk?” Eren scratched at the back of his neck. “It might not be as quick a chat as you think.”

“That’s fine.” Levi purposely stood close beside Eren, staring at his disorganized gym corner. Eren noticed Levi’s nearness. His heart sent another message to his brain, but the translation department was only just yawning and tossing their legs out of bed. It would take time before they could do their job. “Take your time.”

Eren melted a little. There it was again, that unexpected patience and kindness that he had received when he last came to Levi. It probably wasn’t the best way to start the conversation, but Levi was leaning in too.

In the light of half a dozen lamps salvaged from nearby thrift stores, barefoot on the concrete flooring of Levi’s basement apartment, they kissed. Just kissed, really. Levi ran a hand along Eren’s spine. Eren wanted to hold Levi too, but with his recent gains, he didn’t feel like the Levi Eren remembered. Except his nape. Eren ran a hand along the back of Levi’s neck, feeling the fuzz of Levi’s undercut. One of the fun things of Levi’s bigger muscles was that they were more expressive. Like how stage makeup made an actor’s facial expressions more visible from further away, Eren could feel Levi moving and relaxing. Eren didn’t know why this was happening now or what is meant, but he found it encouraging.

“I…was going to ask you something,” Eren said before pressing his lips back against Levi’s.

Levi broke the kiss, but kept his hand on the small of Eren’s back, rubbing circles. “What is it?”

“I know you have that important fight coming up soon and that you’re stressed and tired and probably hungry. Are you hungry?” Eren asked, his mouth going slack. “You just worked out. You probably need calories or electrolytes or something—”

“Eren, just talk.”

“Right. Okay, I know we haven’t seen much of each other lately and I know that what I’m asking is a lot and probably out of the blue…” Eren was rambling and his awareness of it was making him blush. Levi noticed and, fuck, fine he thought it was endearing. He thought Eren was endearing, bombastic, and unrefined. And that was fine. Good even.

“I know it’s totally your decision and know that I’ll accept whatever answer you give, just please hear me out before you make a judgement.” Eren took in a deep steadying breath. 

Levi rubbed circles with his thumb along Eren’s spine. One month, Hange had said, and he could slow down. She was probably right. This fight with Zeke, thought likely to be disgustingly bloody, would be good for the pay. Maybe he could afford to spend more time with Eren, build something with him.

Eren finally asked, “Would you let me into your corner for your next match? I’m not asking for this to be a regular thing. I just really need to talk with Zeke.”

Levi froze. “What?”

“I found out about a month ago that me and Zeke are actually brothers and I need to talk to him, but I don’t know how to get in contact with him,” Eren explained, oblivious to how his hands were balling up and how Levi had gone rigid. “I tried DMing him on as many apps as possible, but I didn’t get a response. Mikasa thinks he probably has a social media team who manages his stuff, especially since the last time he had control of his Twitter account, he challenged you to a fight. It sounds like his manager wasn’t happy with that. Apparently you can tell it’s him Tweeting by the types of emojis used in the tweet. He really likes the purple devil one.”

Eren was rambling again. Levi no longer found it endearing. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was feeling Eren’s back tensing up and his eyes searching his face, waiting for a response. 

“So, Levi, what do you think?”

Levi took his hands off Eren. “I think you should leave.”

“Oh, okay. I understand and respect that this is a lot to ask.” Eren did understand that it was a lot, but admittedly, he didn’t get the significance of the people Levi chose for his corner. He knew Levi’s goals and that this fight probably shouldn’t have happened so soon in Levi’s career. It was like Levi had been interning for a week and was suddenly offered a full-time position with benefits and connections to every VIP in the company. He understood that much and why he would say no, but Eren was still crestfallen.

“Whatever, Eren. Just get out of my sight.” Levi still didn’t know what to feel, but he suddenly had the energy and urge to punch something. Levi turned away and started to untie his gi.

Eren’s heart sent another more desperate message to his brain. The translators were only just taking their first sips of coffee and checking their emails. “Wait, Levi. You, well I wouldn’t want to make assumptions, but you sound upset.”

Levi pivoted to stare Eren down. “I’m not upset. I’m pissed the fuck off.”

Eren blinked. “Okay, let’s talk about why—”

“‘Let’s talk about why’, huh? You’re telling me all of a sudden you’re Zeke’s estranged brother and you want to be in my corner for his match? That’s some soap-opera level  _ bullshit _ .” Levi slammed his top on the floor. It made an angry slapping sound, but it somehow didn’t capture the rippling rage Levi was feeling. “I can’t tell if this is an attempt at sabotage, or you’re a stalker, or, gods pissing down on me, that you’re actually serious and you want to bring your family drama into the biggest fight of my career.”

The translator just noticed the latest and most urgent message from his heart. “Shit, you’re right. I was being thoughtless and irrational and—”

“And idiotic and the world’s biggest piece of shit. Fuck you and your brother.”

Eren recoiled at that. “I don’t like the guy any more than you do. Actually, I dislike him with every fibre of my being. Every sinew of my soul. Every—every hateful hair on my body. I don’t think  _ you _ get how _ I _ feel about him.”

Levi shrugged. “I think I’ve got a pretty good fucking idea how it feels to hate someone that much.”

The translator spat out the mouthful of coffee and dashed to the command centre of Eren’s brain. It stuffed a scrap of paper into the commander’s hands. Dear god. “What? C’mon, Levi. I mean, your feelings are valid, of course, but sometimes feelings are gut reactions to situations that we later realize aren’t indicative of the entirety of how we feel…right?”

“I don’t know about that. I’m pretty shit sure that I’ll still be pissed off tomorrow about my fuck buddy fucking fucking me over in a way I don’t want to be fucked.  _ Fuck _ .” Levi kicked his gi top. It still didn’t make a noise that could adequately capture his anger. He wouldn’t have felt this incensed if he hadn’t been thinking that Eren was going to ask after him. His emotional whiplash through him past the point of reason.

And for Eren, the message the translator had passed along said simply,  _ We’re losing him _ .  _ And we don’t want to _ .

“Levi, wait. Talk to me. Please.” The trembling Eren was feeling in his body had found its way into his voice.

This anger Levi felt was a pressing one. It pushed on his chest and it drove him towards the edge of something. “I don’t want to talk. Not with you.” This pain was a violating one. An unwanted hand pressing on him. “You fucking used me.”

“I…” Eren would admit to his mistakes, even if they were particularly embarrassing. But he would not take credit for something that he didn’t do. Or at least not alone. “Well, how do you think I felt? I caught on. Well, Armin did, that you only called me over to fuck me when you had a match the next day. Like, I don’t know, like I’m sexy NyQuil. That didn’t feel great either.”

Levi looked at him coldly. “I don’t recall you complaining at the time. And you’re so big on communication, but you just accidentally forgot to ask why we were banging? Because we’re fucking consenting adults. By the way, the time  _ you _ came to  _ me _ , there was a reason for that too—and no. I don’t want to hear it. We were mutually using each other—yes, we were. If you wanted more, well you should have spoken the fuck up.”

Levi didn’t like the taste of those final words coming out of his mouth and he wasn’t looking forward to eating them either.

“Fine. I should have and didn’t. But I am speaking up now and I’m telling you—what the fuck am I trying to tell you? I forget where—the point. The point is that I’m not using you. I’m an idiot for asking about Zeke, but I wasn’t—I wouldn’t ever to anyone—and not you. I can’t fucking speak, I’m so upset!”

“That’s fine. We’ve always been physical.” Levi grabbed Eren by the arm and dragged him to the stairs.

Eren was pissed and ashamed. He felt like he was a dog being dragged by the collar out of a room he had taken a shit it. Eren could be an idiot, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. He ripped his arm away. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Levi clenched his fists. He hadn’t been this angry in years. The last time was probably when he found out his mother had spiralled and probably would never take him home. He didn’t know what to do with his feelings. He got in Eren’s face, his expression fowl and sharp. He was sure he looked terrifying with his muscles out and a mean look in his eyes. The shock on Eren’s face seemed to say he was. He wouldn’t actually hurt Eren. He wouldn’t do that to anyone.

This pressure Eren felt from someone with far superior strength bearing down on him. Eren had been in a lot of fights, but not like this not with someone he could have loved.

Eren pushed Levi back. “Stay the fuck AWAY FROM ME.”

The anger went out of Levi the moment Eren spoke. Before Eren dashed up the stairs, Levi had caught the tears forming in his eyes. He had heard the raw distress of someone perfectly afraid of what he might do with all his skill and power. Levi looked at his own hands and felt disgusted. He wasn’t sure there was enough soap in his bathroom cabinet to make him feel clean tonight.

Furlan met Eren on the landing. “What the hell is going on? Eren—”

Eren slipped his other shoe on without bothering to tie the laces. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and kept his head low. “I’m just done. I’m done…See you, Furlan.”

Eren walked out the door. Furlan looked down the stairs at Levi. Levi wouldn’t look at him.

Furlan threw his arms out. “Are you going to say something?”

Levi shrugged and turned away. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh fuck this!” Furlan yelled down at him and, to his surprise, he heard the door open and slam shut a second time as Furlan ran calling after Eren.

***

Between the night, the slick of fall frost forming, the water in his eyes, and the fretting over his nose running away on him, Eren tripped halfway down the drive. His untied shoelaces might have played a part in his pride’s demise.

Eren heard Furlan calling him, but he was afraid Furlan might try to call him back into the house. Even if Furlan wanted to talk just the two of them over chamomile tea, Eren didn’t want to go back there. 

Furlan cursed as he too slid in the drive. Eren looked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself. He had a hand on the ground, but was pushing himself back up. Eren noticed he was wearing orange crocs that were about three sizes too small. They must be Isabel’s.

Eren walked to his car, still wiping his nose. He got in as Furlan opened the passenger door. Eren mumbled, “I’m going home.”

“Can I come with you, please?” Furlan asked, already getting in the car. Eren nodded.

He waited for the  _ click _ of Furlan’s seatbelt and then took off. Eren concentrated on the road. Crying and driving was a lot like driving in the raining, only with more emotion. Eren ground the heel of his palm into his eye like he was putting pressure on a wound.  _ Fucking Levi. Fucking me.  _

“Hey Eren, are you okay? Sorry, I don’t know what to say really,” Furlan said.

“That’s fine. A lot of people don’t know how to respond to displays of emotion. All that matters is you try.” Eren let out a great sob and hopped the curb, disturbing a garbage bin and the raccoon attempting to bust it open. The raccoon was at first alarmed and now suddenly very pleased that Eren’s emotional car wreck had cracked the bin wide open.

“How would you feel about pulling over for a minute?” Furlan was white knuckling the side of his seat and reflexively stomping an imaginary break.

“Yeah, okay.” Eren pulled over, turned the lights and engine off, and pitched forward to sob into the steering wheel. Furlan awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“I just wanted to say, I wasn’t purposely listening in on your conversation,” Furlan said. “The vents carry noise, especially if there’s…heated dialogue.”

Eren let out an understanding sob.

“I…did hear you yelling at the end and I was concerned. Did Levi…did he hurt you?”

“No…gods, I shoved  _ him _ . I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. You’re both big boys and you both have had worse done to you.”

Eren slapped the steering wheel. “This is different. I shouldn’t be pushing my friends around or getting physical like that with…with someone I’m attracted to.”

“Well,” Furlan gave Eren’s back a hearty pat, “worse has been done. You’ve never gotten in a fist fight with a friend before?”

“I head butted Mikasa once when we were kids. I really wanted to be the car piece in Monopoly. She’s gotten me back probably fifty times over though, so I feel less guilty.”

Furlan laughed. “I might have done the same if it was over the Scottie dog.”

“Have you ever fought with Levi before?” Eren stared at the dark dashboard.

“Oh fuck yeah. Pretty much every conversation with him is some sort of fight.” Furlan unbuckled his seatbelt and crossed his arms behind his head. “Although, I gave up on trying to deck him years ago since he’s got fighting skills.”

Eren wiped the tear trails from his cheeks. “This feels surreal. I don’t even know what happened tonight or how to feel.”

Furlan looked down at his lap. “We can talk about it if you want, but I’m not the best with these types of things.”

“I asked to be in his corner and, fuck, I should have said that I do honestly want to support him, and not just for myself. But I kind of got the feeling he would shoot me down anyway. Both for asking to corner and for telling him how I feel—felt about him.” _Feel._ _You still feel for him, idiot._ Eren must be into torture because he recalled the feeling of Levi’s hand on his lower back. How good that felt.

“Yeah, you’re probably not wrong there.” Furlan pinched the brim of his nose. “Though he seemed in a different mood tonight.”

Eren sprang up and Furlan jumped in his seat, thinking some neighbour was on their way to tell them off for parking in front of their driveway. But it was just Eren being Eren. “I know, right? I thought he seemed different too. Like he was more relaxed.”

“Or like he pulled the stick up his ass out for the night, yeah. So, I take it Levi wasn’t a fan of you in his corner then?”

“That was my fault.” Eren ran his hands up and down his face. His cheeks stung from the salt of his tears. He wished he could rip his face off so Furlan couldn’t see him blush, but he figured that sight might alarm him. “I wanted to meet Zeke.”

“Zeke?” Furlan sounded surprised. “Yeah, I could see him being pissed or jealous about that. Why do you want to meet Zeke?”

“You remember that night I came over and hung out with you before Levi came home? I found out the night before, just after your birthday pub crawl, that Zeke is my half-brother. He smashed up my parents’ house, punched a fucking hole in the wall right next to my mom’s head. My parents have separated for the time being.” Eren dug his knuckles into his forehead. “I really wanted to deck him, but after sparring with Levi, I know I don’t stand a chance. But I still don’t like where things are at. I was hoping I could talk to him, try to understand why he’s such a piece of shit, and maybe reconcile my family. And if all that failed, I could have at least seen Levi beat the shit out of him up close."

Eren realized his chest was heaving and he had been focusing on a single lamplight two houses down. He hadn’t been witness to what Zeke did, only an onlooker of the aftermath, and yet he felt so involved and weighed down. Eren turned to Furlan to see what his reaction was. He was wide-eyed and still. So, shocked then.

“By the way, I think Levi was firmly in the pissed camp rather than jealous. He thought I was using him, which I see now,” Eren said.

Furlan straightened up in his seat and joined Eren in hiding his face behind his hands. “What a shitstorm.”

“Sorry—”

“No.” Furlan sat up. “I didn’t mean you. I just mean the situation. How’s you mom?”

Eren gave a watery chuckle. “She’s tough. But she was shaken. I…haven’t really spoken to her since. I feel like I can’t. Not until I confront Zeke. Show her I can protect her.”

Furlan spoke carefully. “I don’t know your skill level, but I know Levi’s and he is severely the underdog. I just can’t see you going up against Zeke and coming out on top.” 

Eren shook his head. “I don’t want to fight him, really. Just talk.”

Furlan nodded. Eren wasn’t sure if he believed him or not. Maybe Eren didn’t seem believable because he was still trying to convince himself that the tears in his family could be repaired with words.

The car had been off long enough that Eren felt a chill. He looked over at Furlan who was wearing a T-shirt, thin pyjama pants, and Isabel’s crocs on his sock-less feet. Eren could see the hairs standing up on Furlan’s arms that he had wrapped around his torso **.** Eren scrambled to turn the keys. “Sorry, Furlan! I’ll take you home. I’m such an idiot.”

Furlan laughed. “It’s okay. I’ve had worse. There was this one time when I was couch surfing at Kenny’s place. Kenny and Levi got into it over this thing that happened with the police, so Kenny kicked us both out. We road a bus until its service stopped and then found this random greenspace with a bench on a corner somewhere in The Underground. It was early summer, so it wasn’t too bad, but Levi’s always cold. Kenny was livid. I guess he felt pretty bad about kicking us out shortly after and drove around most of Paradis looking for us. When we came home the next day, he took us out for waffles.”

Eren didn’t believe in idling his car, letting its exhaust pump toxins into the Earth’s veins just so he could be a little more comfortable. But Furlan’s story made him forget he was adding to the millions of tons of CO2 emissions as his car gently pinged to remind him to put his seatbelt on.

Furlan looked confused and then annoyed. “Right, Levi wasn’t up for deep conversations. What an ass.”

“He doesn’t have to tell me about his life. You don’t have to tell me about yours either.” Eren didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t even thought about what he would do if he was homeless, even just for a night. And it was their choice what they shared with him. If he’d learned anything tonight, it was that they didn’t owe each other anything. That and Levi’s definition of messed started at slightly misplaced furniture. Maybe it was a good thing they hadn’t gone any farther with each other. Eren’s definition of clean started at socks and underwear hanging off the laundry basket and dishes that were less than three days old cluttering his desk. Still, the thought of Levi calling him up, having a calm and adult conversation about how they’d stomped each others’ feelings, leading to Levi’s hand on the small of his back again sounded good to Eren.

“Well, I’d like to. You’re a good guy. I haven’t had the chance to meet many good people. Neither have Isabel and Levi. Which I guess is why I’m pissed at him.”

Eren said quietly, “Don’t be. I’m not. Not really. I get the feeling I hurt him as much as he hurt me.”

Furlan clipped his seatbelt back on and muttered. “You should be angry. Gods know Levi is.”

***

Levi was pissed off, but he couldn’t settle on one reason why. His mind was a rabid dog, spittle flying and teeth showing, and it kept looking between a rabbit that had Eren’s stupid face and one that had his own. He felt bad about getting in Eren’s face. This wasn’t a weigh in where it was expected you go nose-to-nose, flexing and taunting. That shit wasn’t right to do to actual people, especially not…But fuck Eren. He had thought Eren, with his heart beating on the tip of tongue, would treat him like a human being and not a sex and favours dispenser. Maybe he was Zeke’s brother, maybe he had a thing for fighters, maybe he was working with Zeke. Levi had to admit, the last one didn’t make sense timeline-wise since he had met Eren just before he turned pro, but anger was not an emotion of logic. It was one of blood and spit.

And where the fuck was Furlan? Him chasing after Eren stung some, but he got it. Levi’s actions had spooked Eren. The way Eren had taken a step back, his eyes wild like Levi had popped out of the dark at him, and the fear cracking in his voice. Levi was a piece of shit. Levi knew something of that particular flavour of fear and he hated that he’d shoved it down Eren’s throat. Furlan wasn’t great about handling emotions, but he was good about being there. He just wished he was here for him.

Levi had paced his bedroom, feet growing numb from slapping the concrete. After ten minutes, Levi put himself to bed, but he kept turning over. After another 20 minutes of cursing at and punching his pillow, he sat on the edge of his bed and waited to hear the click of the door. He didn’t have long to wait.

When Furlan came back, Levi walked over to the foot of the stairs. He could only see Furlan from the kneecaps down. He watched him kick off Isabel’s crocs and turn his feet in the direction of the basement.

Furlan sighed. “You awake, fucker?”

“Yeah.”

“Will your meal plan allow for a beer?”

“Probably not, but fuck it.”

“I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Levi pulled a T-shirt on, but decided his boxers were enough coverage on his lower half. It was not the kind of night to be wearing pants. Furlan was in the kitchen, rummaging for a bottle opener in a drawer.

Levi avoided the squeaking chair and sat down on the couch. Furlan sank into the opposite corner and wordlessly stuck a bottle in Levi’s face. Levi took it. They tipped their bottles at one another, each taking a long draw, and then sat in silence. Levi didn’t want to, but he could sit there all night without talking, feeling and looking like shit, but he did want to speak. He just wouldn’t want to be the first.

Furlan sighed, took another swig, and said. “He’s okay, by the way.”

Levi nodded. “Good.”

Furlan gestured at Levi with his empty hand. “Why couldn’t you just talk to him like a normal fucking—a normal human being?”

Levi glanced sideways at Furlan. “What’s with the not swearing?”

“I’m trying not to come across as argumentative. Maybe Eren’s rubbing off on me. We probably swear too damn much.”

“You’re just figuring that out now?” Levi asked incredulously. “We were raised by fucking Kenny.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t dodge the question.”

Levi starred down the neck of the bottle. “I was pissed.”

“And you think Eren wasn’t? Did you even hear him out?”

Levi made a motion that was somewhere between a shrug and a shake of his head. Furlan let out a long breath. Levi said, a little annoyed, “I said I was pissed.”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

They sat, hunched over and looking at their feet for a moment. Levi asked, “Did he say anything?”

“No, we just stared into each others’ eyes for half an hour.”

“Now who’s not speaking like a normal fucking human being.”

Furlan said, “I told you I’m not your emotional mule. And Eren’s my friend. I’m not about to spill his secrets anymore than I am yours.”

“Cut the bullshit. I’m not asking you to tell me what his darkest secrets are. Just, fine, does he hate me?”

They locked gazes. Furlan sighed. Again. “Everything’s a fu—shit. I give the fuck up. Everything’s a fucking fight with you. And no, I don’t think he does. But he’s hurt. He cried for the first 15 minutes. Happy?”

“No.” Levi didn’t have a barb or attitude to add. If his heart had fingers and toes, they’d be curling with disgust.

Furlan lowered his head and let the tension out of his neck. “I honestly don’t think he was trying to pull anything. He just really wanted to talk to Zeke and couldn’t think of another way.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t think asking to corner for me to meet Zeke was a good way.” Levi swirled the last few gulps of his beer. “I need all the help I can get from you guys and I can’t be distracted.”

“I know. He probably shouldn’t have asked, but he was honest about it. Or, maybe think of it as he was comfortable enough to ask you.”

Put that way, Levi felt like an elephant-sized piece of shit. “Maybe.”

They drank down their beers. Furlan asked, “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Fight Zeke.” It wasn’t the answer either of them were looking for, but it was the obvious and most honest answer.

“Yeah.” Furlan nodded. “Yeah.”

Levi added. “Once that’s over, I can…think of other things.”

Furlan stood up and grabbed Levi’s empty too. Before walking away, he patted Levi’s shoulder and said without malice, “Do whatever makes you happy, man.”

*******

Eren entered his apartment in mostly his normal way. He’d already cried himself out and talking with Furlan had helped him sort out some of his feelings concerning Levi. 

He kicked his shoes off haphazardly, tossed his gym bag at the foot of the couch, and dove face first into his bed. He stayed face down until he found it hard to breathe and then snagged his laptop. He wasn’t really sure what he could accomplish other than tease the parts of his mind that wanted to crack Zeke’s head and shout his frustrations directly into his brains. He scrolled through Zeke’s Twitter and Instagram, viewed the posts about him in the UFC subreddit, and finally simply googled him. He eventually wound up on Zeke’s gym’s page.

He scrolled down to Zeke’s bio and stats. When he scrolled up, he moved slower. Reiner The Big Guy Braun looked like his fists had launch codes. And there was Bertholdt who had had his second loss to Levi. And right at the top of the page—Eren tumbled out of bed and dashed for the living room. He grabbed his gym bag and dug around until he found his phone. He opened his contacts and typed out a quick message. He probably should have at least checked that his words made sense.

He walked towards the kitchen to distract his mind by stuffing his face. His phone pinged while he had his head stuck in the fridge. He backed out so quickly he accidentally shut the door on himself. His bells were still ringing as he read the message. He sunk to the floor with his phone pressed to his beating chest and let out a relieved laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My word bank is running dry tonight, but I want to first thank everyone who has made it this far and swiftly apologize because I don't think I'll have time to get the last two chapters edited and up this week. The earliest I'll likely be able to get the next one up is the December 1st, which seems a tad cruel with the way the chapter ends. Chalk that one up to bad planning.


	5. Wax On, Wax Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And noooooooow! This is the moment you've all been waiting for. Fighting out of the red corner is our main boys with a bunch of drama. And out of the blue corner is the pain train and he's ready to chew chew your heart out. It's TIME.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (though pretty dang tame considering the canon material contains naked giant cannibals).

Zeke’s first day of preschool was the first day anyone had really talked to him. His family talked around him, and the maids and service personnel that walked the many halls of the Fritz estate spoke to him to ask if he needed anything. When he spoke to his mother, she mainly shrugged and sipped wine in response. So when another child took the red crayon from the pile Zeke had pooled for himself, he silently ripped it from her hand and set to colouring his duck’s bill. He knew ducks’ bills weren’t red, but red was better than orange. Plus he had gotten it for himself and he didn’t want anyone else to have it. The girl burst into tears and the teacher knelt between them. 

“Zeke,” the teacher said kindly and he raised his head, “the crayons are for everyone to share. Do you think it’s okay that Jade is sad? Do you think it might be better to ask when you need something?”

Zeke couldn’t remember what he said, probably because whatever words had come from his mouth were unintelligible and stilted. He really only had to say “yes” or “no” to the staff and maids, and whatever he said to his mother, be Shakespeare or more like Dr. Seuss on crack, her answer was the same. Most toddlers had a larger vocabulary and better sentence structure than him. The teacher had smiled, produced another red crayon, and told him his duck was beautiful.

He remembered his teacher talking to the driver that picked him up. He never went back to school, not until high school. Instead, a speech therapist visited him at the estate every day for several months and a private teacher homeschooled him after that.

Zeke wanted for nothing except the things he didn’t know he needed. He had every gaming console, which when the internet and online gaming became a thing, was the first time he had the opportunity to make friends. Although, that was a slippery virtual slope as he picked up a lot of language and people skills that proved to be problematic in the real world.

By the time he was ten, he was more destructive than a litter of puppies and nowhere near as sweet. He would ride his skateboard down the hallways, breaking vases and running into the staff. He actually did break one of the staff’s arms when he cut sharply around a corning and sent her tumbling down the stairs. Both vases and personnel would be replaced the next day without even an acknowledgement that they had been broken in the first place. So, there were no consequences for Zeke. Or almost none.

At meals, anything Zeke didn’t like, he dumped. The staff silently wiped up everything while his mother and her parents sat at the other end, oblivious to Zeke’s corner. 

One time he managed to get their attention when he frisbee-tossed a slice of ham at the wine bottle between the adults, splashing the Beaujolais into his grandmother’s lap. Truth be told, Zeke did actually like the ham, but he had wanted spaghetti for dinner that night. His grandmother glared at his mother for laughing. It was the first time she had shown joy at something he had done.

His grandmother had harshly whispered something he couldn’t catch, but his mother responded loudly with words he didn’t understand, but that further aggravated his grandparents.

Next day, when his teacher started their lesson with math, a subject Zeke had as much interest in as he had the ham last night, he raised his hand to ask, “What’s an abortion? And why is it too late for my mom to have one?”

That night, Zeke ate dinner in his room with the TV for company. He was rewatching The Karate Kid for about the 20th time that year. He liked it, but he wasn’t old enough or analytical enough to know why. The staff came in to take his plate away just as Mr. Miyagi came to rescue Daniel from Johnny’s skeleton gang. The screen went black and in it’s dead-eye reflection, he saw his grandfather’s stately figure.

Zeke leapt off the bed to stand with his head slightly bowed. He felt his little heart working overtime. 

His grandfather spoke, saying his question to his teacher was inappropriate, that abortions were abhorrent to the gods. Almost as abhorrent as rotten, ill-bred children who didn’t know when to be silent. His grandfather had grabbed Zeke’s chin then, and forced him to look him in the eyes. But maybe, if Zeke learned to be civilized and be a man who didn’t cry when being reprimanded, he might be worthy to be regarded. The teacher, who had been Zeke’s teacher for the last three years, would be replaced for speaking to Zeke outside of what he was hired to do. Zeke hadn’t liked learning, but he had liked the way his teacher had spoken, softly and never in anger even when Zeke refused to learn. His grandfather left him to finish his movie.

Even if Zeke hadn’t taken his grandfather’s words to heart, his new teacher would have made him change his mind. This new teacher, she was stern and only answered questions about the exact lesson. If Zeke misbehaved, she would simply pack up her things, leave the room and lock the door. She wouldn’t return for hours or sometimes not at all. She wouldn’t even leave the chalk for him to doodle on the whiteboard, just whatever worksheets or textbooks they were working from. She didn’t even leave him pencils to fill in his answers so that he couldn’t doodle. He had to memorize the answers instead. If she came back and he could tell her at least half the answers, they would continue.

At first, Zeke cried and raged when she left him. But after a month, he learned that the people on the other side of the door were no more listening than the walls. He didn’t calm down or stop feeling the frustration, but he stopped showing it. 

After nearly a year of having no incidents with his teacher, and eating silently at the dinner table, his grandfather and mother came to his room. His grandfather said his teacher had reported good behaviour and that the family hadn’t been bothered by Zeke. Zeke kept looking to his mother, lounging on his bed and flipping through his comic books. His grandfather said his teacher recommended some sport to keep Zeke fit and further erode his bad temper. So, what would Zeke like to learn? Immediately, he said karate. 

His mother had laughed. Like they would pay for him to learn violence, though of course they could afford it. His grandfather had raised his hand and his mother’s smile slipped off her face. He had said a man should know how to fight and the martial arts instilled discipline. He would allow it so long as Zeke continued to behave.

Zeke had been dreaming of a Mr. Miyagi kind of teacher, but what he got was more like Kreese. His teacher was a short man with a barrel chest and a thick Eastern European accent. The first few months Zeke didn’t throw a single punch. His sensei said he was thick and soft from living a cushy life, and probably had too much gravy at dinner. Not until Zeke, at eleven years old, could do 50 consecutive push ups on his knuckles would he be allowed to learn how to throw a punch. And only when he could hold a squat for five minutes, could he learn how to throw a kick.

After dinner, he would go to his bedroom, put on The Karate Kid, and work out with his eyes always focused on the screen.

When he completed his 50 pushups and squatted for 7 minutes (staring at the screen had actually allowed him to focus and forget how numb his legs were, and he’d seen the movie so many times now that he could practically watch it in his mind), his sensei had nodded and began to actually teach him karate. To both himself and his sensei, it was a surprise to learn that he was something of a natural. 

After a year of training, his sensei spoke to his grandfather. Zeke felt his heart slip into his stomach and had already mentally said goodbye to his sensei. He wasn’t the father figure or found family he had dreamed of, but he at least cared about and was impressed by Zeke’s karate skills. But his sensei still showed up the next day, and not alone. He brought with him two students who would become Zeke’s first friends, Reiner and Bertholdt. At the time they met, Reiner was the tallest and biggest, despite Zeke being a couple years older. He was also the hardest to beat, but the most apologetic when his attacks landed.

The first time Zeke took Reiner’s uppercut to his gut, he puked. Reiner immediately was grabbing him water and rubbing his back while their sensei watched with folded arms.

“Are you okay?” Reiner had asked, helping Zeke stand.

“Yeah, of course.” Zeke’s eyes were alight and through the pain he smiled. When Reiner had punched him, it was like he’d been pushed through a veil and on the other side was a world of colour and sensation. He hadn’t known his world was grey and lukewarm until Reiner’s fist had forced him through. What was more, the strength of the punch sinking into his gut and the soft rub by the same hand on his back were the first times he’d been touched with any weight or kindness.

Their sensei had made Bertholdt grab a mop and set Zeke to clean up his sick before continuing. Reiner tried to help, but neither Zeke nor their sensei would allow him to.

After class, while their sensei had gone to make a report to Zeke’s grandfather, Reiner approached him with a proposition. “Hit me.”

Zeke gave him a puzzled look. “Why?”

“Because I hit you.”

Zeke shrugged. “We were sparring. You were supposed to.”

“I know, but…” Reiner’s face was creased with some painful emotion. Zeke didn’t get it. “But I feel bad. I hurt you and I feel bad about it.”

Zeke considered this. Hurting someone else could hurt oneself. Zeke hadn’t ever really hurt anyone and felt the consequences because he didn’t have the opportunity to, so he wasn’t sure what Reiner was saying was possible. He was curious though. “Okay.”

Zeke drove his fist into Reiner’s gut and Reiner sank to his knees. To his credit, he didn’t throw up. Zeke had felt exhilaration at landing his punch. It was amazing how it felt to sink his knuckles into something that had a bit more give than the punching bags. When Reiner’s knees hit the floor and he groaned, Zeke felt it. Empathy. He did the same thing Reiner had done for him, sinking to his knees and patting his friend’s back. He wasn’t sure he was doing it right, but he wanted to.

Bertholdt had been keeping watch on the door to the estate’s gym and flapped his arm when the adults approached. Zeke pulled Reiner to his feet and they all stood at attention, not a word uttered to anyone who hadn’t been in the room when Zeke threw his punch.

They trained at the Fritz estate like this for two years, twice a week. Zeke had enough talent that their sensei thought he should leave the estate and join the dojo properly. Zeke was excited at that prospect. He rarely left the estate, usually for doctor appointments and only once or twice was a treat. 

His grandfather found him in his room doing pushups. He was only 13, but he was bigger and more sculpted than most 16 year olds.

“Zeke,” his grandfather said and surprised him. He hadn’t noticed him enter, in part because the room was so big, the doors oiled into silence, and mostly because he hadn’t turned the movie off. Zeke spun around and sat on his heels with his head raised. A corner of his grandfather’s mouth tugged into a smile. “Your sensei thinks you’re talented and, if you were allowed to train in his dojo, you could learn from his other students. What are your thoughts on this?”

Zeke didn't move a muscle, but he remained relaxed. “I would like to get stronger and become a better fighter.”

“Then you think you should attend the dojo? Go outside the estate? You think the dojo has better resources than we have here?”

Zeke thought about this. He honestly didn’t know what any building outside of the estate would or wouldn’t have. Of one thing, Zeke was certain: His grandfather liked the estate and was proud of it. Nothing stayed broken or unsightly for more than an hour, and every room was cleaned at least once a day. Badmouthing the estate would not be smart.

Zeke said, “I think it’s the other kids that would be helpful. So, maybe…maybe we could bring them here?”

“Absolutely not.” His grandfather shook his head. “You’ll go there. You’ll be attending a private high school too next fall. I’ve already arranged for those other two kids to attend there too. They’ll help you integrate. We can’t have anyone with the Fritz family name being a social outcast.”

Zeke wasn’t sure how to feel about any of the truth bullets his grandfather had fired at him. He was happy about getting to go to the dojo. He wasn’t worried about getting used to going there. His sensei and his students were so regimented that he knew he could fit in. He knew the rules of the dojo because they were his sensei’s rules, and he carried those with him wherever he trained his students.

He had some concerns about school. He had only attended one class of preschool and he didn’t think it was a good blueprint for high school. He wondered if he’d meet a girl at the beach and have to run away from bullies at the Halloween dance like Daniel LaRusso. He also wondered why now? Why was he allowed to attend school now? He had a feeling that it was because of karate. With each punch he threw and every time he quietly knelt at his grandfather’s feet, he was becoming more and more like the kind of man his grandfather thought was worthy of being regarded.

The thing he was the most concerned with thought was the other two kids his grandfather had mentioned. He must mean Reiner and Bertholdt. He was happy to have them with him, but the way his grandfather spoke about them…he made them sound like staff on his payroll. Zeke had thought of them as his friends, brothers even, but maybe they weren’t.

Zeke loved both the dojo and high school because he dominated at both. At the dojo he was surrounded by people who had the same interests and presented a refreshing challenge, though not for long. He sought out new challenges by attending tournaments and before graduating high school there were already a couple scouts who had their eyes on him.

At high school, Zeke would have gotten along fine without Bertholdt and Reiner, but he was glad to have them with him. Zeke being tall, blond, rich, clever, and built made him popular with everyone, including the teachers. He’d lost his virginity to the Latin teacher during fourth period. She had quite the clever tongue.

He had almost fucked up his relationship with his friends though. He had wanted to test them to see if they were there for him or his grandfather’s money. His stupid teenage brain thought up a plan that involved stealing the attention of girls that he thought Reiner liked and spreading a rumour that Bertholdt was gay. As it turned out, one of the girls was gay (she announced it in a very public way, so there was no convincing Reiner Zeke had stolen her from him). As for the other girl, it was Bertholdt who actually had a crush on her, not Reiner, but Zeke’s meddling had revealed she wasn’t interested in Bertholdt. She was just interested in learning another martial art. As it turned out, Reiner was actually the gay one, so Zeke wasn’t as clever as he thought he was. His actions caused drama and confusion that they would look back on and eventually laugh about. But at the time, Bertholdt had actually punched him hard enough that if it were a professional fight, the ref would have called a TKO. Reiner was actually relieved. He had been afraid that his friends would reject him and the stress of living a hidden life had eaten away at his mental health and academics. Zeke found a way to make it up to both of them. He befriended Annie, Bertholdt’s crush, and convinced her to go to junior prom with Bertholdt, and Zeke took Reiner. By the time senior prom came around, all four of them had their heads screwed on better and went as a group.

By the time he was 16, Zeke had won just about every fighting tournament and championship in Maria, Rose, and Sina. For his efforts, his grandfather bought him a red Ferrari. He remembered his mother rolling her eyes as his grandfather passed him the keys. His grandfather had turned to his mother and instructed her to take Zeke to test for his learner’s license. She said she couldn’t. A fight between them broke out on the perfectly manicured lawn. His grandfather was angry because she was drunk and it wasn’t even 10:00 am. Last night’s mascara ran down her cheeks as she cried that it was the father’s job anyway to do such things. 

Zeke had wondered about who his father was before, but the answers, if he received any response at all, were vague. Maybe he was a foreign dignity that had come for a quick visit and accidentally left a legacy. Maybe he was the son of one of the staff. Zeke had thought one of the many cooks they had had in his life had looked a bit like him. His eyes were the right colour, even if his nose looked more like a snout. But Zeke had never been 16, filled with hormonal angst, and four wheels of freedom before. Well, once he got his learner’s permit, he’d have some freedom.

The more Zeke pondered about his father, the less he cared about impressing the family he did know of. He had his friends and they were assuredly his. They were even able to occasionally convince Annie to join them on their romps around town when she wasn’t kicking as in the women’s martial art tournaments. They were hounds for trouble and with all of Paradis region open to them, the hunt never ended. Drugs, prostitutes, parties in hotel suites courtesy of his mother’s stolen credit card, raiding liquor cabinets and stores, sneaking into the zoo to try to ride the llamas…they did it all. And no one really cared to stop them. In fact, Zeke’s grandfather enabled them. 

Hints that the Fritz’s wouldn’t sponsor a certain event. Dinners with officials who were fed promises of campaign support or tuition for their own children.

“Technically anywhere is a parking spot if you can afford the ticket,” his grandfather had wheezed as an 18 year old Zeke rolled him in his wheelchair down the hallway to dinner. His tongue was still sharp, even if his body was dulling.

“But you should slow down a bit. Not the chair, smartass. With your carousing.” He wagged his finger and clucked his tongue before continuing. “You’re not a child anymore and you’ll soon be able to fight professionally. Save some of that youthful vigour for the ring.”

“I think it’s more commonly referred to as the octagon,” Zeke said.

His grandfather laughed and broke into a teary-eyed wheezing fit. “And I did say you were a smartass. Yes, what is it, Dina?”

“i was just going to hold the door open for you, father.” She looked miserable. Probably because she was currently sober.

He waved her away. “We have people for that.”

“I was hoping I could speak with Zeke.” She kept her eyes on the floor.

“After dinner, after.” He motioned for Zeke to continue. To Zeke he said, “They’re like dogs or trick ponies. Clever for certain few tasks and beautiful to behold, but you have to be firm with them or they go to seed. Women, that is. Remember that when you eventually marry.”

After dinner, his mother found him in the hallway, preparing to pick up his friends for a night out.

“Zeke, I know we haven’t been close, but neither have you and your grandfather until recently. And why do you think that is?” She needed more wine than usual to whet her appetite these days, so she swayed when she stood. “Since he lost my mother, he’s clung to you. Don’t fool yourself into thinking he loves you.”

Zeke didn’t know what she was getting at and told her as much.

“You think your life has been miserable?” Her eyes began to well up. “I’ve been living with him for twice your lifetime. The moment I became pregnant with you, I lost my freedom, the only man I ever loved, and now I stand to lose my inheritance, which feels like losing my freedom all over again. I had plans beyond these walls.”

It took Zeke a moment to realize the reason she was losing her inheritance and speaking to him about it was because it was probably being reallocated to him. Zeke had shrugged, said that it was his grandfather’s choice, and there was nothing he could do. He walked away.

She had said snidely, “Thank the gods I had a son. The hell you went through would have been doubled if you were a girl. But there is one thing I have that you don’t. I know who your father is and he’s a good man. He would have loved you.”

Zeke surveyed her coolly before walking out the doors. In his car though, he began to laugh. He had a way to find out who his father was then and it wouldn’t likely take long, but it would take longer than he expected. Six years, actually.

Six years later, his grandfather lay in his own bedroom, surrounded by all the necessities of a hospital, including his own private doctors and nurses who slept in the rooms beside his own. The doctor on duty had come to get Zeke and Dina when his lungs truly began to fail him.

“What…a match…what a…fight,” he gasped. He found Zeke’s bandaged hand. “This is why…why I’m leaving it…all to you. This family…needs someone as strong…as you…at its head.”

His mother stood up. His grandfather turned to glare at her. “Where…do you think…you’re going?”

She made a weak gesture with her hand. “Does it really matter to you if I’m here or not?”

“Of course,” he wheezed, “…not. It matters…that  _ I _ am here. Show some...respect.”

“You should stay,” Zeke said to her. He pointed at the chair on the other side of the bed from him. “Sit.”

She stared at Zeke. There was less life in her face than the man dying between them. She sat down and his grandfather laughed.

“I’ll die happy…knowing you…are here to…to continue…the Fritz family. So…strong.”

Zeke looked at the ornate grandfather clocking, ticking in the corner of the room. He drew his hand out from under his grandfather’s. “About that…”

“About what?” His grandfather gasped.

“About the family name, legacy, and all that other bullshit,” Zeke said, “I don’t think I will be continuing it.”

His grandfather sucked in air to angrily retort, but it only irritated his lungs. His mother was looking at him with confusion and terror.

“Here’s what will happen in the next 10 to 15 minutes, I think,” Zeke continued. “I’ll finish saying exactly what I’m going to do once you die—feel free to kick off before I finish, of course. I won’t be bothered if I don’t get to say all I’ve wanted to say for the last 24 years to you. I’ve imagined it so many times in my head that I feel like it’s already happened.

“I will not be carrying on the Fritz family name in any sort of way. Of course, I’ll keep some of your money as payment for the shits you took on me for most of my life. And then I’ll give the rest to her.” Zeke nodded at his mother who was now looking suspicious and intrigued. “If she chooses to drink herself to death, I couldn’t care less. But she’ll only get the money if she gives me a name. The name of my father. I hope you have hard proof, by the way. I’m not just going to accept a random name and hope that for once you’re telling the truth.” Zeke turned his gaze on his grandfather. Zeke’s one eye was a bit swollen from his last fight, but he made sure to angle his good eye to catch every twitch of horror on his grandfather’s face. “And then I’ll take his name and I’ll be his family. He can’t be any worse than you circle-jerking country-club cunts.”

“No…!” His grandfather choked out.

“Yes.”

“You…can’t!”

“I can.”

He watched his grandfather claw the sheets and find his hand, attempting to dig his nails in, but even if Zeke didn’t have a thick wrapping of bandages about his knuckles, he wouldn’t have felt much. Zeke stared him down. All the times Zeke had felt angry, scared, and suffocated…finally, his grandfather was able to feel that shit too. If only he’d die a bit quicker so Zeke could get on with his life. Nah, who was he kidding? He was a young, soon-to-be-very-wealthy man with two decades worth of resentment to unleash. He could find other stakes to drive into the old prick’s heart.

“Y’know, even if I didn’t think you were maggot shit, I still wouldn’t have continued the family as you wanted.” Zeke leaned in so his grandfather could feel his breath on his cheek. “You see, I like dick. Thick, veiny ones. Blowing those are like sucking on Tootsie Pops. Y’know, feeling that ridge around with your tongue. You ever taken one up your backdoor, old man? Ah, shit. Looks like that’s one sensation you’ll never experience.” 

The last bit had been a lie. Zeke had never been with a man, nor did he have any intentions to. He’d had quite a few talks with Reiner who had experience in that department, but his grandfather would never know that.

Zeke closed the old man’s eyes, the doctors came in, pulled the sheet up over his head, and wheeled him out of the room. The sun was just starting to rise. He and his mother sat across from one another in silence for a minute.

“Grisha,” She said. Zeke looked up at her and she said, “That’s your father’s first name.”

“You remember his last?”

“Of course, but I won’t give you his full name until we get our lawyers involved.”

Zeke smiled. “Fine by me.”

***

Before entering the Ace of Clubs, Eren checked his phone. Mikasa had texted him, asking where he was tonight. She and Armin had been keeping a closer watch on him, which he suspected was as much for their own concern as it was his parents’. As he stood in the strobing neon light of the club, he felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t spoken to his mother at all this week.

Sheepishly, he ignored Mikasa’s message. If he told her where he was, she would probably show up. He loved her support, even though he was maddeningly jealous of her strength and skills, but he needed to do this on his own. And not for some toxically masculine reason. He wanted a chance to talk without coming across as looking for a fight. Just a discussion between two newfound, probably-irate-at-Grisha family members.

The club was dimly lit and there was far more room for dancing than sitting. It was fairly early in the evening, so it wasn’t packed yet, but the music was thumping, which Eren felt discouraged by. Yelling might be a necessity just to be heard.

Eren jumped as a hand grip his shoulder. He turned to see Annie staring up at him. “It’s been a long time, Jaeger.”

Despite being wound up and dragged down, Eren was excited to meet up with an old friend he hadn’t seen for about a year. Not much about her physically had changed, but she was different in how she carried herself. She had been quiet in a standoffish way. Now she seemed quiet in a badass way. The wonders a cool smile and a leather jacket could do for accenting the personality.

“It’s been too long. We need to catch up,” Eren said. “I mean, you’re a pro fighter now! How did I not know that until recently?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care. We’ve all got lives to live. Tonight’s not for us to reminisce though.”

“Right and thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

She stared for a moment and then nodded over at the bar. “Zeke’s over there. He’s the massive blond one. Well, I guess that description also fits Reiner. He’s the massive, bearded blond. I told him you were coming.”

Eren looked over at the bar and felt his stomach churn. His mouth was dry as he said, “Thanks. Thanks again. We’ll catch up later then.” 

Annie grabbed him by the shoulder again.

“One thing,” she said with her eyes on the well-trod floor. Eren paused. She sounded almost sad, he thought. “He’s got a lot of baggage when it comes to family matters. I’d avoid adding to it, for both your sakes.”

Eren felt a flare of anger, but he took a breath. “I’m hoping to unpack some of that baggage.”

Annie nodded. “I’ll be close by, same with Reiner and Bertholdt.”

Eren had been friends with Annie for years. She went to the same private school as Historia and ended up tagging along with their friend group. She had always been aloof and hard to read, or at least Eren thought so. Armin seemed to have a good understanding of her, and she liked him better for that. Eren had the smallest wish for Armin to be here to translate what Annie meant, whether she would be close by because she was concerned about Zeke’s feelings or Eren’s safety. He didn’t have the patience to figure it out.

Approaching Zeke was like approaching a mountain. He looked scalable and relatively benign leaning on the bar as he chitchated with the bartender. Each step closer Eren got, he became more formidable. When Eren came within six feet of him, Zeke looked his way. At first Zeke looked at him like he was any other person in the club. When he realized Eren was here for him and that Eren was Eren, Zeke pushed off the bar and walked over. Eren didn’t miss how his fists clenched. The other guys Zeke was standing with looked over. Eren recognized the one as Bertholdt, the fighter Levi most recently beat. The other must be Reiner then. They watched Zeke and Eren stare each other down. Eren hoped he looked loose and non-combative. Unfortunately Eren was neither of those things naturally.

Zeke nodded to the back of the club. “There’s a patio outback that nobody’s using now that it’s cold. Let’s chat there.”

Eren gave a stiff nod. “Sure.”

The patio was a little wooden thing with the chairs and tables stacked on top of each in the corners. It was lit by a couple strings of lights that glinted off the wet wood. The club was just a dull thumping noise behind them. Zeke stopped in the middle and turned to Eren. “So…Eren, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. And Zeke?”

Zeke nodded. He pulled a pair of glasses out of his pockets and put them on. Eren blinked. Zeke did look a lot like his father, except blond and buff. Eren tried not to let that boil his blood.

Zeke said, “So you want to talk.”

“Yes—”

“You don’t look much like Grisha, do you?” Zeke cut in. He took off his glasses to wipe them.

Eren balked and had to take a deep breath to stop himself from running over to Zeke and smashing his glasses into his stupid Grisha-looking face. “I look more like my mother. You remember her, right?”

Zeke glanced at him. “Yeah, I suppose you do like more like her.”

“Speaking of my mother—why? Why did you do it?” Eren hoped he was coming across as more curious than hostile.

Zeke continued to fiddle with his glasses. Eren tried not to take it as a slight, but with the amount of attention Zeke was giving his glasses, you would think he’d just run a marathon in a mud pit. “‘Do it?’ What did the bitch say I did?”

“Don’t call my mother a bitch,” Eren spat. He took yet another deep breath. Thank the gods that no one charged for oxygen. “You  _ attacked _ her.”

“In my experience, all women are bitches.”

“That—that is  _ extremely _ problematic.” Eren was caught a bit off guard with that comment. Usually people tried to sell their sexist or bigoted views wrapped in something palatable, though the nutritional contents were always void of logic.

“Gods, Grisha raised a snowflake.”

“Yeah, well your family raised a misogynistic asshole.” Each word out of Zeke’s mouth raised Eren’s blood pressure. He could feel Zeke’s fingers cranking on his dials. 

Eren decided to say what he needed to say and leave before he did something he regretted. “I came here to clear the air. I think my dad shirked his responsibilities to a certain degree. But your—whatever the hell is going on in your head, isn’t his problem. You’re an adult. And it sure as hell isn’t my mother’s. If you can’t not behave like an animal, then stay away from my family.”

After all that fussing over his glasses, he tucked them in his pocket. Zeke laughed. “Your family.”

“Yeah,  _ my _ family.” Maybe he was being a bit harsh. Maybe Zeke was just looking for closure on his identity. Maybe one more deep breath would prevent him from grabbing a string of patio lights and wrapping them around Zeke’s neck. “Look, you don’t know us. Just because we share blood doesn’t mean we’re a family. We have to work at it. Maybe if you put your guard down and dropped the shit attitude, you could be a part of it. You could start with apologizing to my mother and explaining why you did what you did.”

Zeke put his hands on his hips and nodded at the ground. “Wow. Yeah, okay.”

Eren raised a brow. That’s all it took? “Really?”

“Why I did what I did…” Zeke ruffled his hair as he mulled whatever was stewing in his mind. He made a vague gesture with his hand, took half a step forward, and faltered. Eren stared at him, watching some of his bravado fall from his shoulders. 

By all laws of psychics that Eren knew, someone as big as Zeke shouldn’t have been able to move as fast as he did. His knee connected with Eren’s gut and he went down. The impact was enough to cause his diaphragm to spasm and made air feel scarce.

Zeke leaned over him. His eyes glinted in the multi-coloured patio lights. “I did what I did because Grisha was too much of a pussy to face me.”

Zeke loomed over Eren. He panicked, but in a self-preserving way. He swept Zeke’s legs out from beneath him. Zeke grunted in surprise, but he was back on his feet as quick as Eren.

Eren raised his hands with his palms open and backed towards the door. “I didn’t come here to fight you, asshole.”

“Bullshit.” Zeke took his jacket off. The amount of work his biceps had to do to get that big and the amount of bloody work they could put out was intimidating. Eren felt a thrill of fear for himself and for Levi. Zeke took a swing at Eren’s face that he dodged, but he didn’t see the other hand gunning for his ribs.

“Aw, c’mon,” Zeke taunted while Eren leaned against the wall of the club. “That leg sweep was too technical to be dumb luck. Show me that there’s at least one testicle between the men of the Jaeger family.”

“I’ll go to the cops.” Eren bent awkwardly over his ribs.

“Go ahead. They’ve never stopped me before.”

Zeke shoved him. Eren bounced off the metal door and back at Zeke who tossed him over his leg like he was waving out a dusty rug. Pain bloomed up his spine and along the back of his head.

Zeke sighed. “Up on your feet, Eren.”

Eren rolled onto his stomach and wouldn’t have even been able to do that if he wasn’t used to picking fights with less men with bigger guns. Eren wondered if any of the guys he’d beat up before had been as shaken by him as he was of Zeke.  _ Of fucking course not. You never had missile launches for fists, dumbass _ .

“This ain’t the octagon, Eren.” Zeke cracked his knuckles. “If you don’t stand up and face me like a man, I’ll stomp you.”

Well, the half of Zeke’s leg that he had taken to the stomach had been bad enough. He wasn’t looking forward to feeling the full thing with gravity’s guiding hand to boot. Eren stood up. He hoped he looked like he was glaring. It was hard to glare while convincing his organs to settle down.

“Got it out of your system yet?” Eren spat.

Zeke looked perplexed for a moment before he laughed. “Shit, you have some spunk. Tell you what. You throw one punch to prove you’re not a little bitch, and I’ll let you leave.”

Eren doubted that was true. Admittedly, they were probably standing on planks that were not as dull as Eren. But Eren was smart enough to recognize patterns. So far he’d figured out that Zeke was manipulative. There were probably also boards that were better liars than Eren, but he couldn’t see another way to the door behind Zeke.

“I throw one punch and we’re good?” Eren asked.

Zeke made a come-at-me motion. Eren squared up, steadied his breathing, and threw his punch wide on purpose. When Zeke dodged, laughing at him, Eren went for his arm and swung around behind him. He twisted Zeke’s hand behind his back, preparing to give him a shove that would buy Eren enough time to get through the door, but Zeke threw himself backwards, slamming Eren into the door again. If Eren had maybe another couple years of hard practice, he probably could have made it.

As it stood, Eren wasn’t really standing. Zeke was holding him up with one fist clenching his T-shirt and the other working him over with the speed and frequency of the strobe lights falling on the bodies in the club beyond the door. Eren finally admitted to himself, he had never had it this bad before.

Probably only a few minutes had passed by the time the back door banged open, but a handful of minutes paved the road for many fistfuls of damage. 

“Gods fucking gods,” someone muttered. Sounded like Annie. She was definitely the one who shoved Zeke off Eren. Eren remembered her eyes were wild.

Reiner caught Zeke up in a single-armed choke from behind.

“Calm down, man.” Reiner strained to keep his arm around Zeke’s throat.

Bertholdt waved a hand in front of Eren’s eyes. He roared at Zeke. “Zeke, you animal. He’s covered in blood.”

“Eren!” Armin was there. Mikasa too.

Eren was conscious enough to see Mikasa get up from where she crouched before him and walk over to where Reiner was trying to submit Zeke. Zeke laughed as Mikasa chambered her arm for a punch. She had him out in one shot.

Eren closed his eyes as Annie whistled low. “Maybe you should join our gym.”

“Fuck your gym,” Mikasa said. “I’d sooner join Erwin’s dojo. #LeviSquad. Assholes.”

***

Over the past week, Levi avoided Erwin’s dojo and instead worked more with Kenny. His nerves had more coils than the upscale mattress he was sure Zeke slept on. He couldn’t handle running into Eren right now. Besides, Kenny’s dojo, located in the basement of a building that lacked air conditioning, but had a dubious massage parlour up top, felt more like home and not just because it lacked natural light like his own bedroom. He had grown up there. Almost every nick in the walls, Levi had witnessed being made or heard the story ten times over. The trophies that were tarnished or dented were more likely to be Kenny’s. The newer still shining ones were Levi’s. There was a box somewhere in the storage room with  _ Get your shit out of here _ written by Kenny’s hand that contained all of Levi’s belts he had earned. Out of spite, Levi had started tossing the belts he’d earned under Erwin in the box too.

The day before the weigh-in, Erwin stopped by Kenny’s dojo while Kenny was helping Levi stretch.

“This fight won’t be an easy one and I don’t expect you to win,” Erwin said.

Kenny said, “What the hell kind of pep talk is that?”

“It’s not a pep talk, but an honest observation. We all know the odds.” Erwin looked down at Levi who continued to lean into his stretch. “The fewer people expecting you to win though, means less pressure. Less pressure means a clearer mind and if there’s a way to win against an opponent like Zeke, it’s to be calmer and smarter than him. He’s not an idiot, but he is aggressive. Use that.”

“I know,” Levi said.

“Good.” Erwin blinked. “Have you heard from Eren lately?”

Levi froze and focused on bowing his forehead to his knees as he reached for his toes. He shook his head.

“Something up with that kid?” Kenny asked.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him all week,” Erwin mused. “He’s my most dedicated student and hasn’t missed a class since he started. There was a day when he was hungover and still came to class. To his credit, he didn’t throw up in the dojo. The garbage can outside the building is another story.”

Kenny chuckled. “Maybe we scared him off with Levi’s training.” 

Kenny slapped Levi’s shoulder. Levi merely grunted in response.

Erwin smiled. “I doubt that. He’s not shy. It is colder now, so perhaps he’s caught something worse than the brown bottle flu.”

Levi kept his head pressed to his knees. He could feel both his teachers’ eyes on him, burrowing in to see if anything would bubble up.

“Good luck in a couple days, Levi. I’ll be watching from home.” Erwin finally said. He waved as he left. “Your dojo has plenty of character, Kenny. I like it, even if your mats are stuffed with rats.”

“ _ Dead _ rats,” Kenny called after Erwin. “Gods know I can’t afford live ones.”

When Erwin left, Levi could see Kenny pacing and scratching at the back of his head, working himself up to eventually ask, “So, did something happen with you and Eren?”

“Yeah. We had a fight.”

“Shit. Sorry, kiddo.” He sounded it too.

Levi sat cross-legged with his fists on his knees. “We don’t have to talk about it. I’m fine.”

Kenny relaxed. “If you’re sure. If you’re not or change your mind, well, I’d probably be the last person on your list of people, but I’d at least drink a dram with you.”

“Thanks, Kenny.”

They wrapped up and Kenny took Levi home. There was enough time for Levi to think between Kenny’s and his place about Eren’s absence. Maybe Eren was avoiding the dojo for the same reasons as Levi, but he doubted it. Eren faced things head on, in part because he was simply honest and also because he was honestly simple. Erwin had good instincts and he knew his students, so if Erwin was worried, maybe something more was going on with Eren. Erwin had probably even mentioned Eren’s absence in the hopes that Levi could find some way to confirm that this wasn’t anything to be concerned about. But the thought of texting Eren tired Levi more than burpees.

Furlan was just turning the lights off in the living room when Levi got in. “Want me to leave them on for you?”

Levi shook his head. “I’m going to bed too. I have a question though.”

Furlan narrowed his eyes. 

Levi put a hold on asking his original question and instead asked, “What’s with the look, asshole?”

“When you don’t straight up ask it, it means it’s probably going to piss me off,” Furlan said.

Levi nodded. “True. Have you heard from Eren lately? And I wasn’t the one to ask. Erwin was. Apparently Eren’s been missing from the dojo for over a week.”

Furlan frowned. “I haven’t. I’ll check in with him though, just to make sure.”

“Thanks. Good night.”

“Yeah, ’night, shithead.”

***

Levi didn’t sleep well that night. A good night for him was getting four straight hours plus a couple extra restless ones. Furlan and Isabel had also taken the day and tomorrow off because they suspected Levi would like distractions and company. After the weigh in, he’d visit Hange. The day didn’t quite go as planned.

When Levi dragged himself upstairs for breakfast, Isabel was quietly sitting at the island still in her sleep shirt and Furlan was nattering as he beat some eggs. Levi watched them. The general proverb for their friendship was when Isabel was silent and Furlan not, some shit had gone down. Levi only had the mental strength to shovel eggs into his mouth and nothing else.

He sat down next to Isabel and she rested her head on his shoulder. Levi looked to Furlan who did a shit job of pretending he knew nothing by looking up at the ceiling and commenting on the number of cobwebs he saw. Although, this did distract Levi as he promptly got a broom to deal with the eight-legged bastards. Whatever was going on with them, Levi would ignore and they would continue their terrible acting until after his fight.

***

In principle, Levi wasn’t a fan of weigh-ins. He thought it was ridiculous to have to feel a stranger blast angry air out of his nostrils into his face just so the press could get their photo ops. The one thing Levi was good at for these wastes-of-his-time was looking like he wanted to murder the other person. He hated weigh-ins even more when there was a remarkable height difference between him and the other person, and there was literally a foot difference between him and Zeke. He’d have to listen to the press giggle as they shot their shots. The only thing that could make it worse is if Zeke pulled some stupid shit, like dressing up or dancing. Levi might actually kick him if he did the freaking sprinkler.

Levi first caught a glance of Zeke while pulling his shirt off for the weigh-in. Zeke wolf-whistled. Levi ignored him. In the brief second Levi was on the scale, he caught Furlan whispering something to Kenny. Whatever Furlan said made Kenny grimace. The both of them watched Zeke undress with dark expressions.

Levi waited off to the side for Zeke to weigh in. There was some commotion when his weight was read out. Zeke hadn’t cut enough weight. Levi looked over at Kenny who threw his hands up. Zeke would be harder to fight still, but Levi would get more pay automatically. Levi knew Zeke had never not made the cut in his professional career and he had to wonder why this fight he didn’t make it.

When they faced off for the press, Levi went with his usual fighting stance and I-will-hang-you-with-your-own-intestines look. 

Zeke’s shoulders bobbed with repressed laughter. “I think I’ll need some prune juice. You’ll be a tough little shit to pass.”

Levi said nothing. Zeke sneered now. “Got nothing for me?”

When his lips remained sealed Zeke sighed and raised his fists. They stepped closer, locked eyes for a moment, and then shook it off. Zeke extended his hand for a handshake and, feeling like this was somehow a trap, but he would look like an ass if he didn’t shake, Levi accepted it. Zeke didn’t do anything wild, he merely pulled Levi in a bit closer and whispered, “So, you know my little brother Eren?”

Levi pulled back and felt his face go taut. Zeke smiled at finally eliciting some emotion from him. Zeke winked. “He knows me too now. And you’re going to get to know me tomorrow.”

Levi ripped his hand away. “Eat shit, Fritz.”

“That’s The Beast to you, Humanity’s Smallest,” Zeke called after him.

Levi slipped his shirt on. Kenny approached him. “Furlan’s gone to get the car. So, what did Ape Shit have to say?”

“Nothing good. He mentioned Eren.” Levi caught that grimace from Kenny again.

“Asshole,” Kenny muttered.

If Kenny was wound up, Levi’s own coil was twisted further, enough that he broke. “What’s going on?”

Kenny rubbed the back of his neck. He seemed to be chewing over something and eventually said, “Fuck it. I admit I don’t get everything that’s going on these days, but I know you can focus when the world seems to be spinning of it’s axel.”

“Axis,” Levi corrected.

“Right. This is why you don’t do drugs because they end up doing you. Anyway, you need to focus, but you’re human too, I think.”

“Just spit it out, old man.”

Kenny held the door open for him to step outside. “Apparently, Eren went to talk to Zeke. They’re family and despite not knowing each other existed until recently, they’ve already got bad blood between them. Zeke got Eren pretty bad.”

Levi stopped in the doorway. “‘Got Eren’? What does that mean?”

“Gods, how specific do you want me to be? He beat the tar out of him. Probably the shit too.”

Like he had the night of his and Eren’s fight, Levi felt the two-pronged anger most out of his clusterfuck of emotions. He was angry with Eren and himself again. Eren probably shouldn’t have spoken with Zeke and Levi probably should have heard Eren out properly. Maybe if Levi had been with him—fuck, no. If Levi had been there when Eren confronted Zeke, he would be in jail and Zeke would either be fighting some other, short-notice asshole tomorrow night or in the hospital with all four limbs in casts.

Furlan honked to let them know he’d pulled up. Kenny waved Levi out the door. “We can talk later. Right now, as cold-blooded as it sounds, we have to focus on your goals.”

“Right.” Levi got into the back of the car and waited for Furlan to hand over the driver’s seat to Kenny. When everyone was buckled up and Kenny pulled away from the curb, Levi said to Furlan, “So you and Isabel were acting up this morning because Zeke beat the shit out of Eren?”

“Fucking hell, Kenny, I said we couldn’t tell him yet,” Furlan said.

“You can blame Zeke for that,” Kenny said, flipping off an errant reporter.

“I’ll add it to the woodpile of things I’d like to hash out with the fucker,” Furlan said. He turned around in his seat to speak to Levi. “Eren asked me not to tell you until after the fight. He didn’t want his drama to get tangled up with your business. And I wouldn’t have told Kenny if I could have thought of another way to get the message to Erwin.”

“Eren could have told Erwin himself,” Levi suggested.

Furlan let out a cold chuckle. “If Eren wanted to tell Erwin, he would have a week ago. He’s hurt, embarrassed, and Erwin is his fighting teacher. Try to imagine how the guy feels.”

“I might not have to after tomorrow.”

“No fucking way, shithead,” Kenny barked and honked the horn at another car.

Furlan said, “You know the other guy had the right of way?”

“Yes, I know. I was talking to Levi.” Kenny’s beady eyes glared at him through the rearview mirror. “You’re not going to get worse than you give tomorrow. For once you’re going to listen to Isabel and wring some blood out of the fucker.”

Levi raised a brow. Furlan struggled for a moment to find words. “Kenny…you give a shit?”

“You’re goddamn right, I do.” Kenny blasted the horn. There weren’t any cars around them and he ended up spooking a lady pushing a stroller. He waved sheepishly at her when she glared. More collected he said, “I’m tired of assholes like Zeke winning while people like us struggle to get enough. Enough to eat, enough for rent, enough to take care of the people that matter. And then decent-ass people getting churned under the wheels of people like him.”

They sat in silence, each likely reviewing their spooled memories for life experiences that matched with Kenny’s words. None of them had to think long.

Kenny dropped Furlan off first and then Levi outside Hange’s house. When he got out of the car, Levi stood for a moment with the door open. “Regardless of whether I knew about Eren or not, you know I’ll fight the same tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kenny tapped the wheel of the car. “I’m proud of you. I rag on you, but that’s just me. I am proud, though.”

“I know. Thanks, Kenny. And after the fight…could you give me Kuchel’s number?”

***

Eren lay in his bed, attempting to read the notes Mikasa had taken for him in the classes they shared. His attention kept drifting to Zeke and all the pain points connected to him. Coming away with a dozen stitches and a cracked rib was bad enough. His own mother not recognizing him due to the swelling in his face as he lay in the hospital hurt more somehow. And then her needing to be restrained by a Mikasa and a couple nurses so that his father didn’t end up in the bed next to Eren hadn’t felt good either. This was the worst he’d ever been beaten, but after the first couple days, he was back in more familiar territories of pain. At least physically.

Mentally, he still couldn’t put his weight on his hurt feelings. Zeke was terrible and Eren was tempted to write him off as just that. But his conscience was just as stubborn as the rest of him. There had to be a deeper reason for why he was terrible and why he had done what he did. Sure, it wouldn’t excuse Zeke, but maybe figuring it out would stop Zeke from thinking the world was his toilet and other people the paper.

And his parents. At this point, he didn’t care if they didn’t get back together. He just wanted them to talk like normal adults. He said as much when the nurses showed them in, at separate times, to see him. But between their tears and Eren’s swollen lips and pained jaw, he wasn’t sure they got the message.

Finally, Mikasa and Armin. Armin was clever enough to think of Annie being connected to Zeke well before Eren ever had. Or maybe Armin just being better friends with her knew which gym she belonged to. Armin had asked Annie weeks ago to let him know if Eren ever asked after Zeke. 

Armin had looked guilty and upset with himself for going behind Eren’s back as he sat by Eren’s bedside in the low light of the hospital. His cunning was ultimately what saved Eren from being completely blended by Zeke’s fists. But Zeke didn’t confirm where to meet him until shortly before they were to meet, and Eren had the car. By the time the Uber picked Armin and Mikasa up and dropped them off at the Ace of Clubs, Zeke already had Eren on his knees. Annie apparently felt pretty guilty too and had a falling out with Zeke, which had a domino effect on Bertholdt and Reiner. Rumour had it that Zeke spiralled for a couple days, which led to him missing weight at the weigh-in, and only a forced reunion between Zeke, Reiner, and Bertholdt got Zeke even close to making weight.

Eren emphatically told Armin not to feel guilty as he was conductor of his own shitshow. Mikasa agreed. She felt no guilt, only anger at Eren for being careless and ungodly wrath towards Zeke for being a monster. Rumour also had it that Mikasa had a workout shirt that had  _ Unleash the Beast _ written on it with Zeke’s silhouette, and that that shirt was torn apart, burned in their kitchen sink, and the ashes flushed down the toilet. None of them were looking forward to having the conversation with their landlord about why the sink was scorched.

Thinking of awkward conversations, Eren felt the most trepidation when he thought of explaining to Erwin why he had missed class. He had had his sensei for just under two years and granted they weren’t as close as Levi and Erwin, but still Eren felt shame as heavy as Isabel’s raccoon sitting on his chest. He had made a poor decision and had lost a fight. Wasn’t the point of learning karate to come out the victor in a brawl? That was Eren’s initial reason for joining Erwin’s dojo, but it wasn’t the reason he stuck around. Levi wasn’t the reason either, though he made the time there fun and challenging. The real reason Eren stuck around was to learn control and he hadn’t had any during his meeting with Zeke. Zeke manipulated his emotions, outfoxed him in movement, and crushed him with his far more powerful body. Erwin would know all of this when he eventually found out about why Eren had been absent. Erwin had been studying Zeke for months to train Levi. He would know what a mental and physical failure Eren had been.

When Furlan had reached out, saying Erwin was asking after him, Eren had no problems passing the story to him. He wouldn’t have to see any of Erwin’s raw emotions. He would see Erwin after he had healed some and after Erwin had the time to stew, plate, and digest how he felt about what Eren had done. But in allowing Furlan to tell Erwin, Eren tasted a new flavour of fear.

Eren had already shoved his own foot into his mouth when talking to Levi about Zeke. He didn’t need to chase it with the rest of his leg. Eren had asked that Furlan refrain from telling Levi until after the fight, if the topic came up naturally of course. Eren didn’t expect Levi to show up with a fruit bask and teary eyes. Well, he’d like that to happen, but he had kept at bay the fantasies of Levi showing up in his hospital room to hold his hand or maybe slip it under his gown— _For fuck’s sake Eren, hospitals are not bath houses_. Eren squinted at his laptop, not because he couldn’t read the words, but because he was trying to distort the pictures in his mind. _Besides, should I still want Levi? Do I? I was just thinking about his hand around my penis—Sometimes I wish Zeke left me brain dead_.

Eren shut his laptop. He thought he’d have an easier time trying to shove toothpaste back into the tube with a shovel than learning while emotional. He winced slightly as he swung his legs out of bed and walked stiffly down the hall. Armin had his door shut, but Mikasa’s was open. He wasn’t so out of his mind that he didn’t know what she was watching on her laptop. He knocked on her door and she shut her laptop immediately. She was halfway to standing when Eren said, “It’s fine. Go ahead and watch the fights. Can I come in?”

She nodded. “But do you need something though? You can just text. Or yell. I know that’s not as polite, but,” she pointed at his hobbling, “circumstances.”

“I’m just restless.” He sat on the bed next to her.

She smiled. “I suppose normally we would be getting ready for a night on the town.”

“And in a couple hours we would both be wasted.”

Mikasa nodded, “Yes, but you would show it more. And probably get us kicked out of a bar either for aggressive dancing or picking a fight with a Chad.”

“Did I tell you I actually fought not only someone named Chad, but another guy named Ched in a men’s bathroom on Furlan’s birthday?”

Mikasa’s face froze in disbelief. “How did that not get brought up?”

Eren looked away. “Probably because it happened right before Zeke happened to my parents’ place.”

Mikasa nodded. She did a good job of not looking toward her laptop, but Eren knew how much she liked the sport. “Actually, Mikasa, I was going to ask if I could maybe watch the fights with you.”

She regarded him with concern, but also restrained delight. “Are you sure? You know who’s fighting tonight, right?”

Eren nodded. “I want to see.”

Mikasa swung back into bed, pulled her laptop open, and patted the spot next to her. “You’re okay with watching the prelims? The main card won’t start for another hour.”

*******

Despite his and Hange’s best efforts, Levi hadn’t slept well last night. He was frustrated with the shitstorm rumbling above him and was tired of waiting for the first turds to fall. Levi didn’t watch any of the matches before his. He just sat in the locker room with Kenny, Furlan, and Isabel, talking over strategy and what-ifs. When it was nearly time, he threw some punches and jogged around to get warmed up.

Levi didn’t hear the song he walked out to. He let Isabel pick it as he wasn’t much into music for the sake of it. He really only listened when working out or drowning out his roommates. The crowd was actually cheering loudly for him and a number of people were holding up signs in support of him. At the steps of the octagon, Levi took off his shirt and shorts, and folded them neatly before passing them to Kenny. He felt like he’d chugged a litre of something carbonated. There was a lot welling up in his gut. He merely nodded to his team and did a couple laps before crouching down in his corner.

Of course when Zeke came out, he had music blasting and his team bounced around behind him, amping up the crowd. Levi had received a warm welcome. Zeke’s was boiling hot. Zeke approached the ring. When he tossed his clothes to his coach, he smirked at Levi. Levi ignored him. What a prick.

When the ref entered to begin the match, Levi stood up and raised his fists. Neither of them wanted to touch gloves. At least their lack of respect was mutual.

  
  


***

“The odds look good for Levi?” Eren asked as the announcer introduced Zeke and Levi. 

Mikasa let out a dry laugh. “You would think the plus sign next to a high number would be good betting odds, but it’s the opposite. Levi is severely the underdog. He hasn’t lost a match since his debut, but Zeke has had almost triple the amount of fights. And look at the height difference. Zeke’s got several inches on him in reach. Not to mention Zeke came in over the weight limit, so he’s got more mass than he should.”

Eren’s shoulders sagged. He probably shouldn’t cheer for either and should just enjoy the two men who had caused him the most amount of grief in his recent life to stain the mat with each others’ bodily fluids. But secretly, he did want to see Zeke get wrecked.  _ Don’t be a petty piece of shit. I should at least have the same amount of integrity as combatants in a proper sporting event. There’s more to this sport than blood. _

Mikasa shifted next to him. “I hope it’s okay to say that I’m kind of hoping Levi bops Zeke good at least once before going for a submission.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, that’s the name of the game, right? Punch the other guy.” Eren didn’t actually know the rules. All he knew was when it was fight night and Mikasa was watching, there was generally a lot of cussing coming from her bedroom and sometimes the sound of a pillow being punched. 

Eren drew in a quick breath when the fight started and Zeke leapt at Levi with a flying knee. Levi avoided it, but he was on the defensive.

Zeke landed a couple okay hits. Eren found that crossing his arms and digging his knuckles into his ribs helped him to not scream at the screen. Mikasa was sitting so nicely, calmly watching and Eren was a guest in her bedroom. For once, he hoped he could control his fireman’s hose of emotions. Levi was making it hard though since all he was doing was backing off and ducking his head.

In the last minute, Levi got his first good shot in, driving his fist into Zeke’s brow, splitting it slightly.

“YES.” Mikasa bellowed, shaking her laptop and spooking Eren. She flushed a bit and folded her hands back in her lap. “Sorry, I’m trying to restrain myself, but that was a really good hit. If Zeke didn’t have gorilla shoulders, his head probably would have snapped back”

“It’s fine,” Eren chuckled. “I was also keeping it in. I was excited too.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Mikasa said quickly, “I won’t hold back if you won’t”

“Deal.”

***

The moment Levi turned around at the end of the first round and saw Kenny’s tight expression, he knew that he wasn’t faring well. He took a seat while the cutman looked him over and Furlan passed him water.

With the air of man giving a speech at a funeral, Kenny expressed his feelings. “You’re right fucked. Left fucked as well if you don’t get him pinned.”

Isabel pumped her fists behind Kenny. “Just punch his face again! Let the blood flow!”

“Enough outta you.” Kenny shooed her away. He knelt before Levi and muttered, “I don’t care if you can’t get a takedown, just push him up against the fence and take out a leg or dig your fist into his ribs. You can’t dodge his damn monkey arms forever.”

Furlan added, “But you did get a couple decent shots in.”

“Yeah, but I have Zeke ahead still.” Kenny rubbed his brow. “If you can’t beat him in hits, you’re going to have to win by knockout or submission, and neither are going to be easy.” Kenny stared hard at Levi. “And neither without blood.”

Levi nodded. “Right.”

The ref was calling them back for the second round. As Levi turned away, Kenny yelled, “But if you can’t do what I said, then go with Isabel’s plan. Maybe you can drain the bad blood from the fucker at least.”

Levi squared off with Zeke for another five minutes. They were both shining with sweat and the back of Levi’s hands gently throbbed from blocking Zeke’s attacks. The cut above Zeke’s eye had been staunched, but not for long. Levi’s gut twitched when he opened it and a few drops had leaked onto his fingers. His stomach churned at the thought of it running down his shoulders if he went for a clinch. 

Despite both their ribs expanding with exertion, Zeke came at him hot. Levi was still able to dodge the heaviest attacks and eat some lighter ones. The fence wasn’t far from Levi’s back now. He waited for Zeke to swing a big kick and he caught it long enough to steer him into the fence. Levi pinned Zeke’s arms and began fishing about his feet, trying to take one out.

“You little shit,” Zeke panted.

They struggled like two bucks locking antlers. Or maybe more like a moose and a goat, given their size differences. Levi focused on digging in and getting some shots that would at least wear Zeke down, if not count for some. Zeke lived up to his beastly title though and, with a costly burst of energy, tossed Levi down. Levi didn’t waste the energy on talking, but he cursed freely in his mind as he defended the best he could on his back. Zeke’s fists fell on him like rain, if rain were grapefruit-sized pieces of concrete. Luckily, the round ended before too much damage was done.

Levi looked over at his corner and all he needed to see was Kenny with his head in his hands, and Furlan and Isabel frozen with the stool and water in their hands at the edge of the octagon.

***

“FUCK,” Mikasa and Eren yelled when Zeke flipped Levi.

“That King Kong misogynistic BASTARD,” Eren added to clarify his feelings.

“Yeah,” Mikasa said rigidly, “but it was an impressive reversal.”

“That’s the WORST part.” Eren slammed his fists into the bed. Getting this worked up aggravated his wounds, but he’d rather his ribs seared that his brain explode. He turned to Mikasa. “He can still win, right? Levi still has a chance?”

She nodded stiffly. “Yes, but he’ll either have to make him tap or get some kind of knock out next round.”

They sat in silence while Levi and Zeke went off to their respective corners. Zeke’s cornermen had a lot of energy and seemed to be telling him to just keep doing what he was doing. In Levi’s corner, Isabel had stopped her bouncing around. She clung to the fence and had her forehead pressed against it while Kenny soberly spoke with Levi. Whatever he had to say, it was short and finished with a half-hearted shrug and a pat on Levi’s arm. Furlan had some pep, though likely desperate pep, in the way he spoke to Levi. Levi, for his part, kept his head low and gave the smallest of nods.

Eren could see some redness on his arms and torso, and a bit of a swelling under one eye. Zeke’s cut was being tended to again, but he didn’t look too rough otherwise. Both were breathing heavy though.

Eren doubted any of the cheering fans, be they for or against Zeke felt like Eren did. He felt like everything he had been taught to respect or nurture was the opposite of what Zeke represented. He was unchecked rage, hateful ignorance, and really bad at talking about his feelings. Eren felt like the world would have no meaning if Zeke won. No sense of justice, just a bloody man winning his bloody spoils.

But Levi…whatever willfully-ignored feelings Eren had for him couldn’t hide the fact that Levi was outmatched. Zeke and Levi, they were such an odd combo, which was the draw of the event. The most pessimistic parts of Eren didn’t think there was a single cheering face in the crowd that actually thought Levi would win. Sure, some of them wanted him too, but Eren wanted an end to all forms of racism and violence against women. He didn’t know if such a thing was possible…

“Is this bothering you?” Mikasa closed the laptop lid half-way. “We can watch something else. I’m okay with checking the stats afterwards.”

He knew she wasn’t, but appreciated her compassion. “No, I want to see it. I’m just…I keep thinking this isn’t fair, but that’s the point, right? It’s not about fairness. It’s about entertainment.”

Mikasa nodded. “Yes, that’s one way to look at it.”

“Please tell me another way that’s much brighter.”

“Well, even if he loses, Levi is still winning in his long-term goals. The payout he’ll get tonight is probably double what he’d normally get.” Mikasa played with the neck of her sweater, pulling it up to her chin. “And is wanting to be entertained so bad? Some of the fans, they probably don’t want to think about whatever is worrying them for a couple hours. Or they want to blow off steam by watching two assholes consensually beat each other.”

She held his hand. “Things are pretty shit, but it’s not all bad.”

Eren nodded. He even managed a smile. “Let’s finish this.”

***

Like a cracked egg oozing out its whites, Zeke bled over top of Levi. Levi wanted to openly curse now, but the only thing that made him feel more uncomfortable than Zeke’s eyebrow juices dripping on him was if they were to drip in him. And the fucker knew it too.

Zeke wore a maniacal expression and his words came out in a frenzy. “You like that, you fucking rat?”

At the start of the third round, something seemed different with Zeke. Maybe because he was basically ensured victory so long as he kept doing what he was doing, he felt invincible. No, Levi didn’t think that was it.

Zeke hadn’t bothered to block the punch that re-opened his cut. Betholdt was in Zeke’s corner tonight. He must have remembered Levi’s piss-poor attitude towards getting filthy from when they fought. On a scale of spit to shit, blood was closer to a faces-level of disgusting. And Levi was angry with himself again. He’d hesitated when the cut opened, and Zeke rushed him, slamming him down into the centre of the octagon, the worst place to be taken down. There was no cage for Levi to get his back up against and Zeke could move around any side of him. Levi was fairly certain he heard Kenny slap his hand to his forehead when they went down. And now the piece of shit was back on top of him, just trying to manage Levi’s legs before getting into ground and pound.

Zeke said breathily, “I’m going to leave you looking worse than Eren.”

Levi felt adrenaline shoot through him. No, that wasn’t right. It was  _ rage _ . And yes, the mention of Eren was at the centre of it, but not because he was pissed Eren got hurt. Okay, he  _ was _ pissed about that, but that was a problem to be worked out off the mat. What pissed him off so much now was that this bleeding maniac that was trying to pound his skull to pulp was doing so because he was seeing Levi as some stand-in for whatever drama Zeke was living outside the octagon. Like Levi was a punching bag dummy with Eren’s face taped to it. Levi wasn’t risking permanent damage to his one and only body because some asshole had daddy issues.  **I** f all they were doing here was therapy for their family issues, Levi would probably need half a dozen Zeke’s to pulverize with the misery his family had caused and experienced. When would it be Levi’s turned to be on top and work out his frustrations? 

What pissed Levi off most was Zeke not seeing him as an opponent, as someone with value, as a threat. Laying under Zeke, Levi couldn’t be more of a literal underdog. Kenny had said as much during their last corner talk.

The lines in Kenny’s face had been looking deep again. “You’re going to need a hail mary, kid. But I don’t think you should go for it.”

Levi had been too tired to answer, but the disdain on his face must have been communicated.

He had patted Levi’s shoulder. “I don’t want you getting rolled out of the ring on a stretcher. Nothing’s worth that.”

_ I’m always on the bottom _ , Levi thought as Zeke prepared to rain down on him again. Levi thought of Erwin pushing his face into the pavement, of himself staring up at a shadowy figure in the doorway of the bathroom, of seeing the odds and being the underdog in every goddamn fight he’d ever had in the UFC. That meant millions of people were betting he would lose. Every. Damn. Fight.

“You little bitches think you can fuck with me. Who the fuck do you think you are?” Zeke panted, raining down hammer fists.

Levi caught his arm and pinned it to his chest. Zeke almost looked confused. “Where the fuck—Why couldn’t you just stay down?”

Zeke tried to pull his arm free, but Levi had a solid grip. Through gritted teeth, Levi said, “Done throwing your hissy fit?”

Levi certainly was. He was done feeling sorry for himself. Erwin had taken Levi into his dojo with no cost to Levi. Kenny had taken Levi into his home when the last thing he wanted was responsibilities. Furlan and Isabel never looked down on him. Shit, if anything they looked up to him too much. And though Levi might have fucked up any hope of having a civil conversation with him ever again, Eren thought at one point that he was trustworthy and worthwhile.

Zeke’s lips pulled back in an open mouthed snarl. Levi didn’t give him the chance to call him a bitch or piece of shit. Drizzled in Zeke’s disgusting blood and sweat, he found it easier to slip out from under him and roll Zeke onto his back. Zeke struggled but Levi kept hold of his damn monkey arm and got his legs on the other arm. It pissed Levi off to think of it, but the mention of Eren had reminded him of when he and Eren last sparred. Only this time, Levi’s victim was crucified from on top. With Zeke’s arms pinned to the floor, he set to pounding Zeke’s head with his one elbow. Levi only had to ignore the blood for a couple seconds before the ref got between them and the match called. Levi had won with a TKO.

Levi rolled off Zeke and for a moment sat in the middle of the octagon with his hands resting on his knees. The roar of the crowd, cheering or jeering at his win he couldn’t tell, reminded him of living with his mother. They didn’t have air conditioning and the freeway wasn’t far from their place. At night in the summer, when the windows were open, Levi could hear the dull sound of speeding cars in the distance. That’s how the crowd sounded to him now. A bunch of strangers tearing past him and all he wanted was to sleep.

Levi looked up and that’s when the sound hit him full volume. It sounded more like a pack of cars barreling down on him. He might have been crushed by it, but then he saw Kenny, Furlan, and Isabel banging on the fence closest to him. He pushed himself to stand and walked past the medics tending to Zeke while his friends, his family ran to the entryway. Isabel and Furlan met him at the stairs. Isabel leapt into his arms, scream crying, and Furlan was there to put a hand on Levi’s back to keep Isabel from tipping them over.

“Okay, okay. Fuck off for a minute,” Kenny growled, ripping Isabel off Levi. Kenny wet a towel and rubbed down Levi’s head and torso. “Did I get it all? Lemme see your face. For fuck’s sake.” Kenny grabbed a fresh towel and attacked Levi’s face. “Ain’t fucking nothing for you to be crying about.”

Kenny pulled him in tight. Close enough that Levi could hear his uncle sniffling over the roar of the crowd.

***

He couldn’t know it, but Eren’s experience watching the last moments of the fight weren’t dissimilar to Levi’s. He didn’t understand how there were people in the crowd losing their minds over the blood dribbling from Zeke’s face. Knowing these were real people, that was real bodily fluids, and that this was a professional event made Eren’s insides wiggle and not pleasantly, if there was such a thing as pleasantly quivering organs. Sympathy made a punching bag of his heart too. He knew Levi’s feelings about mess.

At some point while they were grappling on the ground, Eren and Mikasa had gripped hands. Eren was looking for comfort. Mikasa was looking for a stress ball. With each hit Levi took, her grip hardened. If she ever chose to have a baby, Eren pitied the soon-to-be father holding her hand in the delivery room. Her grip was tightest when Levi trapped Zeke’s arm. The moment he flipped Zeke though, they both began screaming unintelligibly and flailing their limbs. They were loud enough and concerning enough that Armin stuck his head into the room, his eyes wide. By this point the ref had called it. After thrashing about on the bed, they bolted for Armin. Blessed as he was with intelligence, he was not equally favoured with speed. Eren lifted Armin off his feet and shook him enough that his earbuds fell out while Mikasa looked like she was about to go Super Saiyan.

And then Eren was in tears. Not because he’d won anything or because he thought Levi had won the fight for him, but because he’d tweaked his sore ribs. He was now on his knees, trying to find where the hell the air was, while Mikasa and Armin worried over him.

***

Levi didn’t really remember what happened after the fight. He was sure they raised his hand, people probably cheered, he might have finally touched gloves with Zeke, and the interviewer probably asked shitty questions that Levi gave even shittier responses to.

He didn’t really care to focus on anything until he’d properly cleaned and gotten dressed. Then he had left Kenny, and his friends without a word, and wandered off to find Zeke.

Zeke hadn’t bothered to shower yet. His blood had turned his bangs orange and his one eye was swollen shut. He sat on the bench in his changing room with Bertholdt and Reiner consoling him. They caught sight of Levi first and moved to stand between him and Zeke.

Levi raised his hands. “I’m not here to fight.”

Zeke sneered at the floor. “I didn’t think you were the type to gloat either.”

“I’m not. I might make an exception for you though.”

Zeke looked at him. “Then what the fuck do you want?”

“To talk.”

“About what, Fuckwad Baggins?”

Levi shrugged. “Life shit, I guess.”

Bertholdt and Reiner shared a look. Reiner asked Levi with legitimate concern, “Are you concussed?”

Levi shrugged again. “I could be.” Levi nodded at Zeke. “You still obsessing over Eren Jaeger?”

Zeke got to his feet. Reiner put his hand on Zeke’s chest, but Zeke ended up needing it for support. His head must have been swimming. He growled, “Did you send Eren to psych me out last week? Or that bitch—what is she, your sister? Cousin?—to punch me out?”

“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about. And no, I didn’t. Actually, I had a similar grievance with Eren when he asked me if I’d let him be in my corner this fight.”

Zeke stared Levi down while gingerly massaging his temple. “If you’d fucking done that, I would have kicked your head clean off your shoulders.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Levi said. “You would have been too worked up and distracted, and I would have taken you out in the first round. And  _ that _ would have pissed me off more than I already am.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you,” Levi retorted. Zeke just glared. “Eren Jaeger shouldn’t have had anything to do with this fight. It should have been just me and you, doing our jobs. Fighting at our best. Don’t bring drama, especially imaginary drama onto the mat.”

Zeke shrugged. “Any other pointers, coach?”

Levi gave his trademark dead-eye stare for a moment. He hesitated because it wasn’t his business and he had just warned Zeke about mixing family and fighting. But he felt he wanted to. For Eren’s sake. “Eren is a good guy.”

Zeke made to stand, but Reiner’s hand kept him sitting. “You don’t know shit about me. You don’t know the shit my family dragged me through.”

“You’re right. I do know that my upbringing wasn’t all warm hugs and fuzzy feelings, and I sure as shit didn’t send people to the hospital for it. Or shoot convenience store clerks for cheap whiskey.”

All three of them looked up at that one.

“Yeah,” Levi said, “I’ve got one hell of a memory.”

He left them and returned to his friends. He was sore and tired and hadn’t yet processed his backlog of feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooooo. That's some heavy piles of plot. Thanks for making it this far, friends and fiends! If you liked what you read, let me know. If you didn't like what you read, eh, still let me know. I'm sure I can find a way to make it fun :)


	6. Mo Cuishle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't think you're ready for this jelly because it's too damn sweet. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Hard talks about family, and sexual trauma.

“Goddamn Underground kids. You know they’re born drunkards, right? Their daddies’ sperm have been pickling in the sauce their whole lives.” 

“And the women drink because the baby daddies always leave ‘em. No wonder the kid would do something this stupid.”

“I’m not convinced the little guy is criminally involved. I think he just happened to be there. And I know that substance abuse and stereotyping is no laughing matter.”

“Erwin, a better use for that rod up your ass would be to use it on that kid. He’s got a mean look in his eye. Ah, you’ll learn.” The other cops waved Erwin away.

“Yeah, besides, even if he wasn’t guilty of this crime, he’s got to be guilty of another. You pulled his file, right?”

“He doesn’t have a file.” It was true that Levi Ackerman didn’t have a file. His mother and uncle on the other hand did. When Erwin had brought him into the police station, Levi had said they should call his uncle and not his mother. When Erwin read the stories of pub brawls and belligerence that Kenny’s file had told, Erwin had had a bit of a laugh. Levi’s guardian was Kenny The Ripper Ackerman, former lightweight title holder. No wonder Levi was tough. 

When Erwin read Kuchel Ackerman’s file, the smile slipped off his face to be trodden on later by the street-dirtied shoes of the officers in the building. With the lithe way Levi had hopped the hood of the car, Erwin thought maybe he was only living with Kenny because he was to be The Ripper’s protege. Reality was that Levi’s mother was a prostitute, had been caught a handful of times by the police, and when Levi was six years old one of her clients had sexually assaulted Levi. About a month after that incident, she had been charged with the possession of methamphetamines. Erwin didn’t share this information with the other officers.

Erwin pulled Levi out of the holding cell and brought him to his desk. He pointed to the chair at the side of the desk. Levi gave him a skeptical look. Erwin asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you’d bring me to some sort of concrete room with one of those one-way mirrors.”

“Do you want me to?”

Levi shook his head. They sat down. “I called your uncle. He’s on his way over.”

Levi crossed his legs. “Okay.”

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Levi shook his head.

“Are you sure? You were at that convenience store to buy food before going into work, right?”

Levi grave Erwin a dry look. Erwin lowered his gaze and caught a glimpse of his badge. Of course Levi would be on the alert. “This isn’t an interrogation. I spoke with the clerk in the store. He said you saved him and that he gave the money to you.”

Levi’s gaze was steady. Most seventeen year-olds probably couldn’t look at their math teachers with such confidence, let alone an officer twice their size. “Then what is this?”

Erwin let his eyes wander over to the other officers he’d been talking with earlier. They were still laughing, probably at Levi’s expense. Levi followed his gaze and made an irritated noise. He couldn’t hear them, but the kind had brains and instincts.

Erwin said, “This is just me keeping you company until your uncle shows up. What would you like to talk about then? Do you remember any more details about the men who did rob the store?”

Levi shrugged. “They weren’t much older than me. One was blonde. All were massive, but just about anyone is massive compared to me.” Levi hesitated. “They were probably well off.”

Erwin straightened up. “Well off? How so?”

“Their clothes, I guess. Maybe the way they spoke.”

“The way they spoke? Like with an accent or certain vocabulary?”

Levi shook his head and looked away. “More so like they owned everything.”

Erwin nodded as he wrote this new information down.

When Levi’s uncle came to collect him, there was a flurry about the office. The wiry old coot was in high emotion, first with the officers at reception and then with Levi. 

“Fucking hell, Levi. You’re supposed to be better than me,” Kenny said as Levi joined him on the civilian-side of the counter.

Levi shrugged. “You raised me.”

“Damn right I did and I’m going to keep trying at it. You’re doing burpees until you puke, you little shit.”

Levi zipped his jacket up. “And how are you going to make me do that?”

“Oho, you wanna play those games?” Kenny grinned. “All the dirt, hair, toe nails, and boogers I sweep up at my dojo will end up in your bed if you fight me on this.”

Levi tried to maintain an unfazed expression, but his paled skin gave his true feelings away.

“If I may say something,” Erwin interjected.

“Huh?” Kenny turned around. Kenny eyed him up and down.

“Levi hasn’t been found guilty of anything,” Erwin explained. “Actually, he saved the clerk at the store.”

“That’s not the goddamn issue here.” Kenny squared off with Erwin. Despite Erwin boasting bigger muscles and being over a decade younger, he hesitated when Kenny turned around. “The issue is my nephew stuck his nose somewhere it didn’t belong and got tangled up with you assholes.”

The receptionist behind the desk superstitiously looked over the rim of her glasses and, to the average onlooker, appeared to continue working. However, she would be hard pressed to explain how stapling two donut recipes together was worth the taxpayers’ money.

Erwin’s brows might have briefly twitched, but he kept his voice even. “He saved a man.”

“And fucked himself. Impressive from a flexibility angle, but stupid for self preservation.” Kenny turned away and beckoned for Levi to follow. “C’mon, kiddo. Maybe if you ask nicely, you can get your job back.”

Levi didn’t look at Erwin, didn’t complain that he was stressed and tired, and said no more about rebelling against burpees as he followed his uncle out. 

About 20 minutes later, Erwin was certain he knew who Levi’s pretentious shooter was. Zeke Fritz was brought in for a DUI, for which he had been caught not far from the convenience store. Erwin, being the lowest man in the corporate hierarchy, but the tallest in stature, was given Zeke to handle. Even at the age of 18, he was a beast. Erwin did decide to take him to the concrete room with the one-way mirror.

Zeke gave his name and information freely, like he was doing Erwin the honour of giving him his business card. When Erwin called Zeke’s family, his mother picked up. She slurred as she chewed Erwin out for calling so early, and mentioned something about firing the staff for making her get out of bed before 8:00 am to answer her own phone. When Erwin explained who he was and why he was calling, she laughed, told him to call Zeke’s father, prattled off a number, and hung up. Erwin decided to give her a moment to get back to bed and her staff to wake up, and called the number she gave him. The person on the other end of it was not anymore helpful, but much more pleasant to talk to.

“Good morning? Oh shi—crap, I mean. Sorry. Jaeger residence, I mean,” what sounded like a young and tired man’s voice said.

“Good morning. Is Grisha Jaeger available?”

“Uh, maybe. I mean, I’ll ask. Just one second. DAD? ARE YOU STILL HERE?”

“EREN,” a woman yelled in the background, “STOP YELLING. IT’S TOO GODDAMN EARLY FOR IT.”

“Sorry, Mom. Where’s Dad?”

“WHAT?”

“SORRY, MOM. WHERE’S DAD?”

“NOT DAMN WELL AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE. TRY THE BASEMENT.”

“OKAY.” Eren, so it would seem, returned his attention to Erwin, “Could you please hold on one moment, sir?”

Erwin stoically held back a laugh. “Of course.”

Grisha Jaeger was eventually found and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Jaeger. My name’s Erwin Smith and I’m with the Paradis Police Department. I’m calling about your son.”

“Eren?” Erwin could hear the gentle confusion in Grisha’s voice as he said, “But he’s just eating pancakes.”

“Not that son. I’m calling about Zeke Fritz.”

The silence was so long on the other end that Erwin wasn’t sure if he was still there. “Mr. Jaeger?”

“Yes—sorry. Yes, I’m here, but I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’ve only got the one son. Just Eren.”

“WHAT, DAD?”

“Nothing, son! Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Thank you for your time.” Erwin hung up. When he called the Fritz’ number again, the staff were awake and, once they had passed along the message to someone a bit more amenable than his mother, were swift to send the family lawyer to collect Zeke.

Erwin tried to hold Zeke accountable, but every piece of evidence he threw at the case slipped off. Finding the gun in a garbage can not far from the store and that it was registered to Zeke’s grandfather? Apparently, it was stolen by a member of the staff who was subsequently fired. The convenience store clerk who got a good look at his assailant’s face? Suddenly refused to speak on the matter and looked scared as he muttered that he was so shaken at the time of the incident, he probably couldn’t be a reliable source. And Levi?

When Kenny opened his door to Erwin, he wasn’t exactly greeted warmly. “Gods, what do you want?”

“To speak with Levi—”

“He’s not here.” Kenny folded his arms as he searched Erwin’s face. “Y’know my nephew lost his job because of you. His friends too.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” And Erwin was. A lesser cop might say he was just doing his duty. Erwin felt, since he was involved in an incident where the innocent parties were the ones hurt, that seeking justice here was just as much his duty. “I would be willing to speak to his former employer on your nephew’s and his friends’ behalf.”

Kenny leaned on the doorframe and gave Erwin a disbelieving look. “You think your presence would actually help? They know Levi’s innocent. It’s knowing that you’re watching him makes them nervous.”

Erwin’s shoulders sagged. “I see.”

Kenny moved to close the door. Erwin said, “I’m certain I’ve found the man who actually committed the crime.”

“Good for you. It wasn’t Levi.”

“I know that,” Erwin said gently. “The problem is his family is one of means and every lead I get they quash. Levi’s the last lead I have currently. He got a good look at one of the men. If he could pick the man out of a lineup or sit down with a sketch artist, we might have a chance at catching the man.”

Kenny was more than irritated now. “So, you want my nephew, who’s already lost something just for buying a sandwich, to go against a family who is at best bribing and at worst destroying those who try to prove their kid’s guilt?”

Erwin lowered his gaze. He could feel Kenny’s glare burning his skin better than any summer sun. Since Kenny had opened the door, Erwin had been thinking he ought to drop this. He was trying to do what he thought was the right thing, but so far his investigation had led to multiple people losing their livelihoods and one clerk too terrified to even look him in the eye. That and Erwin himself had lost some ground too. He was now a pariah at the office. At best the other officers treated him like a snack machine, only interacting with him when they needed something, usually menial. At worst, well, it wasn’t that bad given Erwin’s stature. They couldn’t exactly push him around and any of their “pranks” Erwin ignored. The other officers were finding it hard to bully someone who refused to acknowledge his bullies. But it was unlikely that Erwin would ever be promoted to a position of power and nothing would change.

Erwin had been thinking about possible options for his future in the few seconds it took for Levi to appear in the doorway.

“Rose, Maria, and Sina, I told you to stay in your room,” Kenny barked at Levi.

“You also told me I needed to sort my own messes out,” Levi said.

“Now you decide to listen to me?”

Levi shrugged. To Erwin he said, “I heard what you said and I’m not interested.”

Erwin was surprised, but he couldn’t know for sure why yet. He supposed he pegged Levi as a fighter and that he cared about others. Levi had stayed to help the clerk and had not mentioned, even accidentally, that at least one if not two of his friends had also been there, as Erwin knew Levi hadn’t been alone based on the clerk’s report. “You don’t mind that a shooter got away? He could do the same thing to someone else and maybe that someone won’t be as lucky to have someone like you around.”

Levi’s brows had twitched and lips curled up. “I’m not saying I want that to happen. If you’re coming to someone like me for help, you’ve probably already run out of options.”

Levi was clever. Erwin knew he wouldn’t get any further information on the case out of him. He didn’t feel like their conversation was over though. Erwin was curious. “Someone like you?”

If Erwin wasn’t used to people in distress or rage staring him down, he would have curled under Levi’s glare. “I’m from the fucking Underground, I dropped out of high school earlier this year, and I come from a broken home. My mother’s a whore to boot.”

“For fuck’s sake, watch your mouth,” Kenny scolded.

“She is a whore. I could have called her a drug-addicted whore.”

“LEVI, fucking hell.” Kenny put Levi in a headlock, which didn’t faze him. The wet willy did though.

Levi easily broke Kenny’s grip, probably because of both skill and Kenny not really trying. Levi put a hand over his ear and told his uncle, “You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Do you do martial arts?” Erwin asked Levi. He was fairly certain he knew the answer, but he wanted to see what Levi would say. Would he brag? Get defensive? Aggressive?

Levi stared. “Yes.”

Straight answer it was then. “I thought you might. You were pretty light on your feet the night we met. Have you thought of following in your uncle’s footsteps?”

“Not really.”

Kenny mussed up Levi’s hair. “He’s got better groundwork than anyone I’ve seen recently in the octagon. But his punches and kicks are pretty shit.”

“If they’re shit, that’s on you, old man.” Levi slapped his uncle’s hands away.

“Nah, I’m naturally gifted at boxing. I can’t teach talent.”

“No, your arms are just freakishly long.”

“Looks like I need to clean out your other ear.”

Before Kenny could trap his nephew’s head again, Erwin said, “It sounds like you could use some instruction in a second martial art.”

Levi looked at Erwin like most people would look at a jar of low-calorie mayonnaise. “I don’t have money for that.”

“If you’re interested in karate, I’d be happy to give you some pointers,” Erwin offered. “I’ve had my black belt for almost ten years now and I trained around the world to get it. If you’re interested in learning, of course.”

Both Levi and Kenny stared at him skeptically. Levi asked, “Why?”

Erwin shrugged. “I had thought about having my own dojo at one point, but I didn’t think teaching karate would be as useful to society as being a cop. I’m having second thoughts though.”

They stared each other down or maybe it was more that all three men were validating that they were all seeing the same future.

“I don’t have money,” Levi said.

Erwin smiled. “For you, I’d just charge blood, sweat, and tears.”

***

Erwin called Eren shortly after Zeke and Levi’s match. Eren and friends were actually digging into celebratory pizza when his phone rang. Armin didn’t seem to fully grasp the gravity of the fight or why it de-evolved his friends into jovial cavemen, but he appreciated getting a slice of the deep-dish spoils. 

Furlan had passed Eren’s tale along to Erwin then. Eren wondered if Furlan had told Levi what had happened and, if he did, what Levi had thought. Would he be even more pissed with Eren, whether it was because Eren was careless or because his problems with Zeke detracted from their fight? Eren hoped he hadn’t fucked up the match. He had seen exhaustion hanging its bags under Levi’s eyes, felt the 20 or so pounds of muscles Levi had grained over the span of a couple months, and saw firsthand how much he sweated just to stand a chance against someone he probably shouldn’t have been paired up against. Wherever Levi was, Eren hoped that he was well and felt validated.

With his heart somewhere between his throat and teeth, Eren walked himself and his slice of pizza to his room to take the call. Erwin asked Eren how he was and if he needed anything. Eren sat down on his bed, set his pizza on his lap, and said he was okay and just needed to heal. Erwin asked only if Eren felt safe and not what specifically had happened. Eren thought of his best friends down the hall and how Mikasa would come running and Armin would whip his phone out to alert the correct authorities if Eren so much as whimpered. He did feel safe. Erwin asked when Eren thought he might be back in the dojo. Eren sheepishly answered that it would be a couple weeks before he had healed up enough...so long as Erwin was okay with that.

Erwin was silent for a moment, then said, “I trust you know best when your body is healed, but I get the feeling that’s not what you meant.”

Eren gave the grease puddles on his pizza due consideration. He too felt coated in bad decisions. “I just...feel like I’ve let a lot of people down recently.”

Despite being nervous about coming clean to his sensei, Eren was about as good at lying as he was at de-escalating tense situations, but he wanted to get better. At the de-escalating part, that is. If he started getting good at telling lies, he’d bleach his hair, grow a beard, and start calling himself Zeke. 

“Is that so?” Erwin, bless him, did not sound surprised or put off by Eren’s straightshot words. The man was so steady and stalwart, he could probably catch arrows with his bare hands. “If you feel that way, may I offer you some advice?”

With having everything but half his wits beaten out of him recently, Eren certainly had room for wise words. “Yes, please.”

Instead of laying down his truth, Erwin asked, “Do you know what sensei means?”

Eren had seen enough karate movies that he knew simple questions rarely ever had simple answers. He also realized none of those movies could help him on this pop quiz. “Does it mean master?”

“Not quite. Sensei simply means someone who is further on the path.”

With this new knowledge, Eren somehow felt less intimidated by his sensei, but more exhausted. Erwin hadn’t done a million punches atop a mist shrouded mountain while consuming only dew and bathing in spirit energy to achieve his title. He had done the same work that Eren and Levi were doing, which to the best of his knowledge did not require patronage from a cosmic entity. 

“You have fallen or perhaps been shoved down, Eren. What matters now is you stand up. This may require that you ask for help or have hard conversations with anyone you tripped with you.” 

Eren was fairly certain that Erwin didn’t actually live in his dojo or wear nothing but his gi, but he couldn’t help but picture him sitting behind his desk in his office rather than lounging in front of his TV wearing bunny slippers as they spoke. Actually, now that he’d drawn that mental picture, all he could see was Erwin wearing pink slippers. That image would be difficult to exorcize before re-entering the dojo’s hallowed halls. 

Erwin continued, his voice as warm as the slippers he may or may not be wearing, “But I think you already know all of this. Try not to worry about what is no longer on the board and make your next best move. I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks.”

***

Eren returned to the dojo before Levi, which made sense. It took Eren a good three weeks to recover enough from Zeke’s fists to get back to his training. Levi probably hadn’t been as wrecked as Eren after his encounter with The Beast, but he had likely been living in a state of stress for the months leading up to the fight. Levi probably needed and certainly deserved the rest.

With Levi resting, Eren spent more one-on-one time with his sensei, which was great for learning both the martial arts and more unexpected life lessons.

“You’re not as tense these days,” Erwin remarked while Eren worked on learning a new kata.

Eren looked at his fist like it had answers. It didn’t. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yes, especially while your rib is healing. Of course we want tension when we throw or take punches, but there’s a difference between being tense and being ready.” 

Flushed with Erwin’s praise, Eren tried harder to look impressive, but he ended up ramming his toenail into the back of his heel. Erwin said nothing about Eren kicking himself and let him work through the kata on his own for a bit.

Eren supposed he did feel calmer these days. Getting beat forced him to be still, to watch YouTube videos on how to cook a proper stir fry, to pretend to be Furlan while taking a personality test to tell him what kind of dog would suit his lifestyle (it was a lab), to retake the quiz pretending to be Isabel (he wasn’t sure he’d gotten it right as he somehow wound up with her needing a chihuahua in her life, which he feared would be too small for someone with her energy and that she might not be able to resist the temptation of naming it after Levi), to catch up on school work, and finally, to reflect on himself. What he needed. What he wanted. How to get it. Eren could visualize some of the conversations he would have to have and tried not to overthink what their outcomes might be.

When Erwin returned to stand beside him, Eren jumped. He had somehow forgotten his extremely large sensei was quietly watching from the corner of the dojo. His mind had gone blank. That was rare for him. There was almost always an amped up version of him criticising himself in his mind.  _ Yeah, I’m still here, idiot _ .

“Your focus is there, but your feet should be wider and your front knee bent further.” Erwin modeled the pose. Eren tried copying him, but he felt like Erwin’s figure had been carved by Michael Angelo and Eren’s by a dyslexic chimp with a rock. Erwin smiled and Eren couldn’t help but feel like he knew more about Eren’s mind than was humanly possible. “Here, let’s run through the entire thing together.”

***

For the past week and a half, Levi had hidden himself away from the world. Even at home, he stayed mainly in the basement. At first, he was healing, and then he was contemplating what the last couple months of his life meant to him and where he was on the path of his goals. For some years, the path had been one straight one with some unexpected faces coming out of the brush. Like Erwin, who had offered to teach him karate and made his UFC dream attainable. Like Zeke, who Levi was able to springboard his career off of. And Eren. Levi didn’t really know what to make of him. He didn’t know what he could make of him now.

When Levi decided he’d given the world enough of a silent treatment, he visited Kenny first. Ever the gentleman, Kenny opened the door with his jeans half on and shirt unbuttoned to display his stained undershirt.

“You’re looking better,” Kenny said.

“You’re not,” Levi quipped.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been busy and celebrating. Busy celebrating.” Kenny waved Levi into the house.

“Celebrating?” Levi asked.

“Your big win against Zeke. I’ve got a lot of people with a lot of interest in you sticking their noses up my ass.” Kenny sat down on his couch, which Levi guessed was older than himself.

Levi scoffed. “You don’t have to manage me if it’s that much of a pain.”

Kenny shook his head. “I don’t mind that, but you should. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Levi had been about to sit down, but Kenny’s voice stayed him.

“You’re worth more than I ever was,” Kenny continued, “and I don’t know how to manage that. How to negotiate for you. Look, eventually the fucking sapling outgrows the flower pot.”

“Is this you quitting?” Levi couldn’t find a word for what he was feeling. Could rage be cold and muted?

Kenny gave him a sharp look. “Don’t take that tone with me. If I didn’t want you around, I wouldn’t have raised you during some of the best years of my life.” Kenny rubbed the back of his neck and laughed, “You gave me a lot of hell, but a lot of good times too. I’m not leaving you, kiddo. I’m telling you to leave me. Find someone who understands today’s UFC, not the UFC of 20 years ago. You should be able to afford it now.”

Levi nodded. “Okay. Fine. Good fucking peptalk, by the way.”

Kenny laughed depper and Levi cracked a smile. “So what do you want, you little shit? Shouldn’t you be neck deep in women? Or men, that’s fine too. Or both? Gods, I’m really out of my fucking depth here.”

Levi sat down on the couch beside his uncle. “I’m just making my rounds.”

Levi pulled an envelope from his pocket and passed it to Kenny, who took one look inside and passed it back with a sigh.

“I don’t want your money, kiddo. Business is booming at my dojo.”

“Pass it to Kuchel then.”

Kenny looked him over. His eyes narrowed. “Nah, pass it to her yourself.”

Levi shoved it back into Kenny’s hands. “I promise I’ll see her, but give me some time to sort my head out. I only just stopped waking up with aches.”

Kenny nodded and tossed the money onto the coffee table. “Sounds good.”

Levi wasn’t sure what to say now. Something wholesome? Something sarcastic? His mouth moved without the go ahead from his brain. “By the way, I like men and women. The whole spectrum, really.”

“The whole spectres—? What are you, a fucking Ghostbuster?” Kenny rubbed his brows. “I’m gonna need Maria, Rose, and Sina to draw me a fucking map to a place of understanding.”

***

Next on the list was Erwin. Levi knew that it was early enough in the evening that there was a chance he might cross paths with Ewrin’s adult class, which really only consisted of him and Eren. The chances became certainty as Levi’s bus was early and Erwin—it was like the gods had torn a whole in time and space just for Erwin to see Levi was dojo-bound and fuck with him—decided to let his class run late. Eren, of course, was there, trying his best to follow Erwin through the motions. Levi thought his footwork looked sloppy and his balance off. He also thought he looked quite peaceful in the low natural light of the dojo. He wasn’t graceful, but there was a beauty to his determined nature.

Erwin most definitely saw Levi standing in the doorway. The dojo was practically an extension of his body. He would probably feel the beat of a flies wings in the hallway. Eren most definitely hadn’t noticed him. He was relaxed and focused. He was gliding more than his typical stomping. He had improved while Levi had been MIA, which made him proud and something else. He wasn’t sure what to call the emotion for realizing Eren had continued life without him and that he couldn’t retrace the steps to witness them for himself. Regret was probably a good word for it. Guilt a close second. Unrequited—

Erwin said to Eren, “Good. Finish up while I talk with Levi. You’re free to leave when you’re ready.”

At the mention of Levi’s name, Eren kicked his heel and might have bit his lip when he stopped himself from swearing. Levi kept focus on Erwin as he followed him into his office. 

Erwin opted to stand beside his desk, so Levi stood too as he fished another envelope out of his bag. He knew Erwin had a bank account, so he wrote a cheque instead of giving him actual bills. Although, knowing Erwin was a former cop, it might have been hilarious to give him what looked like a drug dealers’ fat stack and Erwin have to explain to the teller to put it in his retirement account.

“I think I got the right amount.”

Erwin raised a brow, so Levi explained. “For all the years you taught, plus the competitions, tournaments, and equipment you paid for.”

Erwin’s other brow raised. “You kept track of all of that? Impressive. Also not necessary.”

“No, it is necessary. Don’t give me some bullshit about you doing the honourable thing or my fame bringing in new students to square us up. This is payment for services, like how any normal fucking business is run.”

Erwin sat on the corner of his desk. He folded his arms and took a moment to appraise his student. “What if I said I didn’t need it?”

“We both know that’s a lie. You’re no Zeke with a bottomless trust fund.”

“What if I said teaching you made me feel happy?”

“I don’t give a shit about your happiness. Take my damn money.”

Erwin laughed and Levi cracked a smile. “I really don’t need or care for this, Levi.”

“I really don’t want to owe you or anyone anything.”

Levi felt an itch of irritation as yet again Erwin looked him over. He hated it because Erwin could see the hairline cracks in people and predict how those factures came to be. He probably would have made a good detective if he had stuck with the cop thing.

“I can understand that,” Erwin eventually said. “I hope one day you can understand that being given something is not the same as taking something.”

Levi looked at his sensei skeptically. He wasn’t in the mood for Erwin’s karate bullshit. 

Erwin ultimately accepted the cheque, but it seemed that most of it would be put back into the dojo. Erwin thanked him and settled into his desk. Now it was Levi’s turn to stare. Erwin wasn’t going to walk him out then. Levi could hear Eren sweeping the dojo mats out there. Why was it easier to walk into an arena full of people to exchange blows with Eren’s ape brother than it was to face one feisty college student with a broom?

“Good bye, Levi,” Erwin said.

Levi let out a long breath out his nose. “Yeah, see you later.”

When he walked into the dojo, Eren was sweeping what looked like nothing into a pile of nothing. The floor was immaculate, so he was either sweeping for the sweet cleaning sensation or to look like he was busy. Since Eren wasn’t Levi, he guessed it was the latter, which was too bad in a way. Levi considered reverent sweeping a bit of a turn on.

Levi wanted to say many things. That he was an ass, that he was sorry, that he missed having Eren around, that Eren had missed a spot. He hadn’t really, but Levi also missed Eren’s panicked face. But given how they had left things, he’d probably come off more of an asshole than teasing. Levi, for the first time in his life, chickened out of a confrontation. He would just slip past Eren and worry about what to say when they next faced off in class.

“Congratulations.”

Levi stopped on the edge of the mat and turned his head. Eren was clenching the broom handle so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“I saw your fight against Zeke,” Eren continued. “You…you were amazing. You did amazing.”

“Right. I mean, thanks.” Levi was struggling to find what to say next. He felt like a fist was trying to punch its way through his sternum. How could he put that into words? “He was a heavy hitter and a tall bastard.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eren laughed, but now the fist inside him was punching down into his stomach. What a fucking thing to say to the guy who was hospitalized by Zeke.

“Hey, Eren. I’m sorry.”

The look on Eren’s face was a confused one. “What for?”

“For not hearing you out. For getting pissy and treating you like a trash bag.” Levi made a reaching gesture. “I don’t know. Maybe if I hadn’t been wearing my own ass, he wouldn’t have done that to you.”

“No—I mean, I hear what you’re saying—and thanks, but.” Eren thumped the broom handle against his forehead a couple times and took a breath. “I think if I also hadn’t been wearing my own ass, I wouldn’t have gone alone to meet someone with that many muscles and that short of a fuse and that everyone close to me was telling me not to meet. That was stupid of me.”

Levi shrugged. “Well, you lived, so you get to learn. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital. Like I said, I had my head pretty far up there.”

“I understand. You were busy and, I have to say, it felt good to see you put Zeke down.” Eren chuckled. He was back to wringing the broom’s neck. “Also, I just wanted to say I’m sorry too. I didn’t really think about what I was asking or your feelings, and I—”

“It’s fine.” Maybe he was being rude cutting him off and he was fine with Eren thinking that. It was just that every word Eren said was making the fist clench tighter and tighter around, well, all of his organs really. “I overreacted. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Eren nodded. “Yeah, okay. It’s okay.”

They stood in the yawning awkward silence. Levi turned to leave. He didn’t want to go, but he also didn’t know what to say. 

“Do you think…” Eren said, “…that someday we could sit down and…talk?”

Levi nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay. Good.” Eren relaxed and went to put the broom away in the cupboard.

This time Levi caught Eren off guard. Actually, he caught himself off guard too. “What do you have planned after this?”

Eren turned around, blindly stuffing the broom in the closet. It plotted with the exercise bands and mop to come crashing back out on him. Eren began shoving everything back in. Over his shoulder he said, “Nothing. I’m free. Completely—gods, just get _in_ _there_.”

***

Luckily, Eren had a change of clothes in his bag so he didn’t have to wear his gi while they had pancakes at the diner across the street. Not that he would have minded, but their waitress was already giving them stares what with Levi’s bruised face and the fact that two young men were sharing a fluffy stack after 7:00 pm.

“And she made him lie there long enough to plant a stick, y’know like a flag on a sandcastle, in the sand in his mouth. He was spitting all through recess.” Eren took a sip of his coffee. “That particular bully never went after Armin again.”

Levi was one of those incredibly capable human beings that could cut through food neatly with a fork. His half of the pancakes still looked layered, whereas Eren’s looked like rabid seagulls had had their way with it. Levi carved out a bite-sized piece for himself. “Mikasa has finesse. And she punched out Zeke in one go? Shit, we just might be related. I’ll have to ask Kenny.”

After pancakes, Eren would drive Levi home, and the topic of conversation would churn, dragging up debris from deep in both their memory banks.

“My first was a woman named Hange. We went to highschool together. I dropped out in my third year for a semester, but she dragged me back.” Levi hesitated. The night was going well. Was there such a thing as too honest? If there was, Eren was probably a guru and doctorate in that. Whatever Eren and Levi were building as they talked, Levi didn’t want to knock it down. But if they were going to work, the foundation couldn’t have gaps. “Actually, I still see Hange. We’re friends with benefits. You were right about me using you to relax before a match. My last two fights, I visited Hange.”

Eren braked a bit hard at the lights and muttered, “Asshole.”

Well, Levi had been called worse. “Yeah, even if we weren’t exclusive, we should have communicated better.”

“What? Oh, no—Gods, Levi, no. I wasn’t calling you—the guy beside us in the red sedan.” Eren punched his finger at the car on their left. “He’s on his cellphone and cut someone off. That’s so socially irresponsible.”

The guy next to them noticed Eren pointing and scowled. Levi leaned over, caught the guy’s eye and gave him the Ackerman glare. Suddenly the guy was incapable of looking to his right and hung up his phone.

The light turned green. Eren said, maybe a bit too casually, “I mean, yes, we should have communicated better, but we never made any promises. And it’s your body. Also, I wouldn’t call you an asshole.”

“Maybe you should.” Levi wasn’t into pain like Eren was, but he felt like Eren accepted his apologies too easily.

“It seems a bit harsh…”

“What would seem less harsh?”

“I don’t know. Butthead?”

“We aren’t eight fucking year olds.”

“Okay, okay.” Eren swelled as he obviously thought of something more insulting than telling Levi he had cooties.

“Eren, just fucking say it, whatever it is.”

“I was just thinking...what about if I called you short fuse?”

“‘Short fuse’?”

“Because you’re small and angry.”

Levi didn’t know how to respond to that without proving it an accurate nickname. “That’s pretty clever.”

“You think so?” Eren sounded relieved and Levi couldn’t begrudge him that. “Because I was thinking as a followup to that, I could call you Napoleon Dynamite. Y’know because Napoleon was small and angry, and you’re explosive.”

“I get the goddamn joke.” Maybe he could begrudge him. If it wouldn’t cause them to crash and burn, Levi would have put Eren in a headlock. But he had to admit, “Okay, that’s damn clever. I didn’t think you had it in you to roast me.”

Eren blushed. “Well, I was upset with you for a bit. I had plenty of time to think. I’m sure you had choice names for me.”

“Yeah, like asshat, shithead, fuck without benefits. Pretty standard stuff.”

They shared a laugh at the other’s expense.

“So Hange, a woman?” Eren asked, trying not to look over at Levi and concentrate on the road instead.

“I can’t sleep with men and women?” Levi asked.

“No—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just—shit, curb—I didn’t mean to perpetuate bi-erasure. You just seem to enjoy, uh, particular things.”

“You mean anal? Hange has a strap-on.”

Eren paused. “Hange…her last name wouldn’t happen to be Zoe?”

Levi was silent for a moment. “She’s one of your professors?”

“She’s one of my professors.”

“And you’re probably one of her more memorable students, so I guess she wouldn’t make the mistake of sleeping with you.”

“Well, I’m not really interested in women, so I think it’s safe to say you and I don’t have that in common. What do you identify as, by the way?”

“A Ghostbuster.”

“A—wait, what?”

And after the next karate class, they would find themselves again at the diner, sharing a basket of fries.

“You could tell I was nervous, right?” Eren asked.

“You know those stupid finger-trap toys?” Levi dipped the tip of his fry in ketchup. “I’ve played around with some of those that were looser than your asshole. Why did you want me to do you like that?”

Their waitress’ eyebrows shot up to make room for her eyes blowing wide open. She placed the cutlery down and excused herself. Eren thanked her retreating back while Levi waited for an answer.

Eren forked a couple fries, dunked them in ketchup, and let them drip as he hovered them before his mouth. “I’d just found out about Zeke the night before. I was in a weird headspace. I guess I kind of felt guilty for not being there for my mom, and frustrated that there was nothing I could do. I guess I wanted a release, but I didn’t feel like I deserved to feel good.”

Levi set his fork down for a moment. Eren quickly said, “I did feel good, by the way. I just didn’t expect to. You were actually very kind.”

“You didn’t think I would be kind?”

“No, I—I don’t know how to phrase it. I guess I didn’t think someone topping me could feel good. I…was in highschool when I first tried. Neither of us were experienced. All the knowledge we had came from porn and sex ed, which didn’t discuss anything that wasn’t vanilla heterosexual.” Eren also set his fork down. He could feel his cheeks starting to burn.  _ Idiot, you have nothing to be ashamed about.  _ “I thought it was maybe like beer, where it doesn’t taste good the first go and you have to get used to it, but it really hurt when he was inside of me and after. There was some blood. Anyway, I should have told him to stop, but I didn’t want to spoil it or come across as unmanly. Stupid. It didn’t help that he was hung like a horse. So, yeah, I just assumed it would hurt with you.”

Levi let out a slow breath. “That sounds fucked. I wish you had told me beforehand.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Car rides home became a thing too, even if there were no pancakes or fries prior. Eren offered and Levi was slowly accepting that he didn’t have to feed Eren to pay for a ride. After a couple more karate classes, Levi hesitated on getting out of the car. Eren’s gut did a somersault and he was glad they had decided they were too tired for milkshakes that night.

“You know how I was raised by my uncle?” Levi said.

“Yeah. I met him at Furlan’s birthday and the dojo, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the bastard. He took me in when I was six. I lived with my mother, Kuchel, until then.”

Levi went silent and Eren didn’t press him. He did turn the car off though.

“I don’t know much about her, but I know she grew up in The Underground and that she didn’t have much.” Levi settled back into his seat and stared out the windshield. “She was a prostitute back then. I don’t know if she is now. Anyway, she would normally not bring men back to the apartment. I think I remember seeing her get into cars, so I guess she mainly worked out of there. But Kenny ended up taking me in because there was an incident.”

Eren watched Levi in the darkness of the car. A streetlight cast some odd patches of light and shadows over Levi’s face. He was still and his breathing normal, but his words were coming out a bit too forcefully.

“I didn’t understand what happened at the time. I just remember feeling scared and then Kuchel shrieking when she saw the fucker’s hand down my pants.”

“Gods, Levi…That sounds terrifying and painful.”

Levi let out a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, I was freaked enough that I pissed myself. I liked things being clean before that, but after that, I couldn’t stand feeling dirty. Anything—sweat, blood, spilled juice, it all reminds me of soggy pyjama pants.”

“I’m sorry, Levi. I don’t know what to say, but thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“It’s fine.”

Eren laid his hand palm-side up in the console between them. He didn’t care if Levi wouldn’t take it, but he wanted the offer to be there in case he wanted it. He did want it. They sat for several minutes in silence, the late fall air cooling their skin, gripping each others’ hands with a comforting pressure.

A day later, a day as ordinary as a plain bagel with light cream cheese, Eren was thinking of Levi as he made scrambled eggs for dinner. Two minutes later, his phone rang and he was talking to him.

“Hey Eren, is this an okay time to talk?”

Despite being too tired for milkshakes, they had spent two and a half hours talking in Eren’s car at the foot of Levi’s driveway the other night. The call was unexpected, but very welcome.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” There must have been a certain pitch in his voice that was audible only to his most protective of friends because Mikasa appeared in the kitchen doorway. She crossed her arms.

“Y’know how I said that with the UFC and everything, that I didn’t have time for anything other than casual relationships?” Levi sounded hesitant.

Eren’s mouth felt like Mikasa had given him the sand-castle bully treatment. It didn’t help that she was staring daggers at him. He managed to get out a slightly higher pitched than normal, “Uh huh.”

“I…” Levi took a deep breath in. “I don’t think that’s true anymore. I think I would like to try having a relationship. With you, if you’re at all interested. But I understand if you’re not. Given our history, it’s quite possible things will get fucked. Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound as crude as it probably did.”

Eren’s face and neck felt hot, like when he would lean over the fire pit on family camping trips, but the rest of him felt frozen in the stillness of the night. He was even a bit mesmerized by Levi’s words.

“What?” Levi asked.

In his mind, Eren thought he had said  _ I feel the same and I would like that very much _ . What he actually said was more like, “Yeah—what. I’dlikethat. Thanks.”

Levi’s confusion made sense because Eren’s words did not.

Having Mikasa there actually helped. When he saw her expression change from suspicion to confusion and mild concern, he knew his message hadn’t been clear. “I meant to say I feel the same.”

“Good.” Levi sounded relieved. Happy even. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have done this over the phone. I was talking with Isabel about you and she started saying I should call you right away.”

“You did such a shit job at communicating last time that I thought you should come clean ASAP,” Isabel yelled over the phone. “That and Eren’s hot-crossed buns won’t be on the market for long.”

Levi let out an audible breath. “When are you next free?”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

“I have plans with Furlan and Isabel—”

“No, make him come hang out with us!” Isabel yelled. “Eren, come over and watch horror movies.”

“Eren, hold on one second,” Levi said. Eren figured Levi had covered the phone because whatever he said to Isabel was muffled. When he came back on, he said, “If you’re okay with watching movies with Furlan and—”

“Yes,” Eren said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off—”

“Consider us square,” Levi cut him off. They shared a laugh “7:00 pm, tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Eren smiled as he said it.

Eren hung up the phone and stood for a moment. Mikasa watched him. Eren put a hand to his heart, maybe to check if it was beating or if maybe he’d died sometime early that day, probably while driving, and this was the beginning of his afterlife. It was there, raging out victory.

“Eren, what is it?” Mikasa asked.

“I think,” Eren said, “that I have a boyfriend.”

Mikasa blinked.

Eren panicked when she didn’t say anything. “What? What is it?”

“You sounded so nervous, and you were shaking, and your face turned red…I thought you were talking with Zeke, but as far as I know, you don’t have an incest kink, right?”

“Fuck Zeke—Dammit. Shit choice of words.  _ No _ . That was Levi. Levi asked me out. I’m with Levi. We’re together.”

Mikasa’s jaw popped open slightly, which meant she was deep in shock. “You’re dating Levi?”

“Yes, officially.”

“You’re his boyfriend then?”

“Well, I haven’t asked him if he prefers the term partner or not, but yes.”

She blurted out, “Can he get you tickets to fights?”

“What—I don’t know. It wasn’t exactly part of the agreement.”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes.”It would have been if he was asking me out. But I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Mikasa.” Eren was touched.

She gently patted his shoulder. “If he breaks your heart again though, I’ll break his knees. Your eggs are burning.”

Eren gave up on food for the night. He felt too full of other things, like joy and gas from the joy. Instead, he flipped through the messages between him and Levi. A new message from his father popped up and Eren felt a thrill of excitement over possibly telling his father the good news, but then he remembered that he’d been ignoring his father’s texts for the most part. With a mellowing of his emotional high, he read his father’s message. He actually reread all the messages he had sent him over the past month and a bit. Eren moved to the living room. He sat on the couch. He cried. He slapped his cheeks and he finally responded.

***

Movies with Levi and his roommates was a cocktail of happy and awkward moments. Right at the start, Levi greeted Eren at the door. Eren had laughed and gone for a hug while Levi leaned in for a kiss. Eren tried to switch gears, which somehow translated to Eren patting Levi on the back and crushing Levi’s lips into his collar bone. Eren had pulled back and tried to explain that of course, he would love to kiss Levi, but he wasn’t sure if Levi was okay with that level of affection early on, and that he hadn’t meant to suffocate Levi. He only got a couple words out before Levi pulled him in for a proper kiss that sucked not only the words from his mind, but the air from his lungs.

“Did you ask Eren what he wants on the pizza?” Furlan called from the living room.

Isabel popped her head around the corner and said, “I don’t think they’re hungry anymore.”

“We haven’t eaten yet though.” Furlan sounded confused.

“Well, their mouths look pretty darn full to me.”

“Isabel, for fuck’s sake,” Furlan sighed.

When they did settle in for a movie, Eren sat stiffly next to Levi. He didn’t know if Levi would like to hold him or be held during a movie, or if he liked to be left alone while watching. Was he sitting too close and giving off too much body heat? Would he look like a psycho if he wanted to snuggle while watching people be torn limb from bloody limb in the horror movie? He kept thinking these things and working up a sweat while Levi and Furlan made sarcastic comments at the characters’ decisions and Isabel chucked popcorn whenever the baddie lurked in the background.

Furlan said to Eren, “The true bloodbath will happen when we turn the lights back on and Levi sees the state of the floor.”

Isabel flicked popcorn at Furlan, but it bounced onto Levi. He sighed and placed the kernel safely on the coffee table. “You’ll be sweeping and vacuuming after this.”

“It could be worse. Back in the old days, people would throw rotten vegetables at actors on stage,” Furlan reasoned.

“Don’t give her ideas.”

Isabel sat up. “I think our milk is expired. Do we have balloons?”

“No,” Levi said.

“Fine. Levi, can I have a condom?”

Furlan gagged and Eren stiffened more than he already was.

Levi was the only one unfazed. “Why would you think that I would be a good person to ask to borrow a condom from to fill with rancid milk and chuck at our only TV?”

“Well, it would be a bit awkward to ask Eren and I’m not going to ask Furlan.” Isabel crossed her arms. “I think pandas have more sex than Furlan.”

“I have condoms!” Furlan spluttered. “And I don’t fill them with—oh, fuck off both of you.”

They settled down as the suspense of the movie wound up. Eren was barely paying attention to the TV. He was trying to work out the math and physics required to move his arm subtly to the back of the couch. In about ten minutes he had managed to move his elbow up between them. If he yawned, he might be able to get away with tucking it behind Levi’s head. The movie had other plans. The spook in it leapt out and everyone on the couch jumped. Except for Levi who was cursing and holding his face.

Furlan chuckled a bit nervously at Levi while he kept one eye on the screen to make sure nothing else popped out. “It got you? You never fall for jump scares.”

“No,” Levi said, “Eren poked me in the eye.”

Furlan chuckled heartily now while Eren fussed about Levi. “I’m sorry. I jumped. Your face was just there.”

Levi blinked a couple of times and then let Eren look at his handiwork. “Shit, it’s really red. Sorry, Levi.”

“It’s fine.” Levi blinked several times. “Is the movie getting to you?”

“Oh, no. It was just unexpected.”

Through one and a half eyes, Levis gave him a skeptical look. “Monsters leaping out in a monster movie is unexpected?”

Isabel chucked another kernel at Levi. “Leave him alone. He was just trying to give you the reach around.”

Levi looked at him and he didn’t see the point in lying, so he shrugged.

Levi said, “Then do it.”

Levi leaned into Eren as he put his arm around his shoulders. The only adjustment Levi made was to hold Eren’s arm across his chest rather than let it hover over his thigh. “If you jump again, I don’t want to lose a ball next.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

Eren didn’t notice how Furlan had missed his mouth with the popcorn when Levi moved closer to Eren or the side-eye glances that Furlan was giving them. Levi noticed, but figured Furlan would either figure it out or that he’d ask Levi what was going on with them later. Furlan wasn’t one to make a scene, which was why he discreetly texted Isabel to ask if he was missing some development between his friends.

Isabel shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth as she looked at her phone. “Hey Furlan, they’re dating.”

Eren and Levi both turned to look at Furlan. Eren smiled awkwardly. Levi looked unimpressed. Furlan chucked his phone onto the table, muttering to himself, “Nobody tells me anything. I followed him out in Isabel’s goddamn crocs. Bastards.”

Eren tapped Levi. “You didn’t tell him?”

Levi shrugged. “I thought Furlan was pretty observant and figured he’d figure it out sooner or later. Considering Isabel narced on us for kissing at the door, I thought you had already figured it out.”

“I thought that was just your, y’know, usual way of greeting each other like the horndogs you are.” Furlan was blushing. “You could have also just told me like a  _ normal human being _ . We are friends, aren’t we? Or did I finally make it onto your shit list.”

“Piss off, Furlan. You’re always on my shit list. It only happened yesterday.”

“Yeah, plus Levi’s still shy about it,” Isabel said offhandedly. “He wouldn’t let Eren hear him say ‘He’s my boyfriend, not yours’ when he was reaming me out yesterday.”

Furlan got a kick out of that, laughing heartily. Eren did too, but he opted to discreetly squeeze Levi’s arm instead. Levi sighed. “You guys are the real horror show and I can’t turn you off.”

“Could if you killed us,” Isabel said, “but you’d have to dispose of the bodies.”

“I’d leave you out for your raccoons.”

Isabel considered this. “I’m not sure if I find that disturbing or sweet.”

“How is being devoured by raccoons sweet?” Eren asked, very much so concerned.

“I have the same question,” Furlan said. To Levi he said, “If you leave my body to street dogs, I’ll come back as a ghost and leave ectoplasm on your cleaning supplies.”

Levi wrinkled his nose. Eren, more so to himself, muttered, “Luckily he’s a Ghostbuster.”

Levi, to everyone’s surprise (especially himself), let out a loud laugh. Furlan and Isabel looked like the movie monster had jumped out of Levi’s throat. Eren could feel Levi’s sides trembling as he suppressed his laughter. Eren would have liked to hear him let loose, but he smiled all the same.

“Fucking brat idiot.” Levi kissed his cheek.

“Wait, what did he say? What did you say?” Isabel asked, desperate to be let in on the joke while Furlan mouthed “ _ Ghostbuster? _ ” to himself.

***

They watched a second movie and cracked open a couple beers. Levi had offered him a spot in his bed and Eren was feeling the situation, so he decided to drink and stay the night. When they went to bed, they were both tipsy and relaxed. Levi got into his pyjamas while Eren stripped to his boxers, and both flopped in bed. It was odd how the basement felt that night. It’s coolness was familiar, but the situation made it feel comforting. They stayed up for a couple hours, talking and joking, in the dark cool basement. At some point, the alcohol exited their brains and left them with that tired, but happy sobriety that comes around 2:00 am when having excellent conversation.

“You’ll have to hangout with my roommates too.” Eren smiled at the ceiling. “Mikasa would probably want to challenge you to a fight, she’s such a fan. She’s saved my ass from guys twice her size. I guess good things come in small packages.” Eren tapped Levi’s shoulder.

Levi dryly asked, “Is this you telling me my dick is small?”

Eren sat up, fumbling his words. “No—I meant you, like all of you is small, well most parts—even if you did, that would be  _ fine _ . Small penises are beautiful too. You’re very accomplished in bed.”

“Eren, I’m teasing you.” Levi chuckled and held Eren’s hand.

Somewhere between wanting and apologizing, Eren hovered their entwined hands over the drawstrings of Levi’s pants. “If you want, we could…”

“Sorry, Eren. I didn’t mean that as a come on.” Levi squeezed his hand before moving it away. “I think we should try to wait a little while. Settle into this. Us.” Levi rolled over to face Eren. The lines in his face were hard as he thought. “I don’t know much about relationships. I never really had one that wasn’t a friendship or just fucking. Or somewhere in-between, I guess. I haven’t had great role models with Kenny and Kuchel. And Furlan was an orphan by 14 and Isabel bounced around between foster homes, so I didn’t see anyone else’s happy parents either.”

“I didn’t know about all that. What you said makes sense and I respect that. We’ll figure this, us, out together.” Eren kissed his knuckles. These hands had pummelled Zeke a couple weeks ago. He allowed himself a satisfactory smile before saying with some apprehension. “I spoke to my dad, finally. About Zeke.”

“What did he have to say?”

Eren drew in a deep breath. “He and Zeke started talking after your match. It sounds like Zeke has reasons for being as fucked up as he is. My dad got him to agree to go to counselling. My parents are also going to couple’s therapy, but mom is going to continue to live with my grandparents for now.”

Levi surveyed Eren’s face, but given the emotional clusterfuck of the situation and the lowlight, he could no more tell Eren’s thoughts than he could discern ape shit from monkey dung. “What do you think about that?”

Eren took a breath in. “I think it’s the best thing to do. I think it’s fair…actually, I don’t think it is. Or maybe I do, but it doesn’t feel fair. He attacked my mother.”

“He beat you up,” Levi added.

“I don’t give a shit about that.”

“You should.” In a moment of unusual tenderness, Levi pushed Eren’s bangs back and brought his head to rest against his chest. Through Levi’s thin T-shirt, Eren could feel his body heat. “Someone hurting you should bother you. It bothers the fuck out of me. That shit ain’t happening again.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eren sighed.

“Are you going to see your dad soon?” Levi asked.

“Next week, yeah. I don’t hate him. For a while, I thought I might, but parents aren’t perfect. They fuck up, get scared about their fuck ups and then create more fuck ups by trying to hide the original fuck up. I can forgive him and I want to.”

Levi  _ hmm _ ed in agreement. Eren would have been content to fall asleep with Levi holding his head, but he felt the more responsible thing to do was check in. The conversation was about Eren and his parents, but he suspected it was likely triggering for Levi.

Eren raised his head. “Can I ask…have you spoken with your mother?”

“I actually need to meet up with her soon.”

“Yeah?”

“It’ll be the first time in about seven years, I think.” He absentmindedly played with Eren’s hair. “Kenny mentioned she wanted to reconnect months ago. I’ve been putting it off. I don’t know why.”

“What are you feeling?” Eren asked, gently taking Levi’s hand from his head so he could sit up and get a better look at his face.

“I don’t know. I don’t even think of her as my mother. I barely remember when she was.” Levi felt like all the parts of him that needed to be flexible were tightening up. His chest, his throat, his tongue. “It’s like I’m mad at her sometimes without her being there or doing anything. Just the mention or thought of her pisses me off, and I usually say something shitty. Something that I think would hurt her if she had heard it.”

“Have you spoken about this with anyone?”

“I’m talking with you,” Levi said with some jest. “I’m being an ass. I know what you meant. Not for some time.”

“Do you think it might be time to talk with someone about these things again?”

Levi stared at him and Eren thought he might be looking to pierce the fabric of his hot air balloon heart. It was a sensitive topic then. Eren rubbed the back of Levi’s neck and he relaxed. “Sorry, yes, I should. But I’m not going to put off seeing her any longer. She’s been waiting for months, probably years to talk to me.”

“Will Kenny be there?”

“Probably, to keep me in line. Eren…” Levi felt like an ass asking it since they’d only just started dating, but something like fear or desperation was driving his words. “Would you come too? If you’re comfortable with that and have the time. Kenny’s not the best mediator. And he’ll probably be more in her corner than mine since I’m a man now and she’s been through more shit recently.”

Eren could actually feel his heartbeat in his throat. “Yeah. Yes, of course.”

*******

Squirrels on the last day of fall probably weren’t as busy or as nutty as Levi and Eren were today. Eren was driving them to Kuchel’s apartment in The Underground. Levi was hunched in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the increasingly ramshackle-looking houses and rusting buildings. To anyone who didn’t know the context of where they were going, Levi probably would look bored. Eren was fairly certain he was one speck of dust away from blowing up. 

When he came by to pick Levi up that morning, he had waited in his car fifteen minutes past when they said they would meet. Eventually, he got out of his car and knocked on the door. He had found Levi taking the laces out of his shoes to better scrub the eyelets and tongue of his sneakers. Eren had gently suggested Levi take a moment to freshen himself up in the bathroom while Eren restrung them.

On top of the stressful day plans, Eren also had plans with Armin, Mikasa, and a bunch of their highschool friends to celebrate Armin’s birthday. In fact, they should have celebrated it a couple weeks ago, but Eren had been hurting still and then Armin had been swamped with final projects for school. Eren had said Armin could celebrate without him and that he’d take him out some other time, but Armin had refused, saying he’d rather wait a month than go one evening without his best friend. Eren might have cried if his tear duct hadn’t still been swollen shut by Zeke. 

Levi was invited along to the birthday plans, but Eren didn’t know if his nerves could take the usual bar hops, dancing, and inevitable 1:00 am pitstop at McDieter’s for greasy sustenance. Eren planned on being DD so that he could take Levi home, if need be, and had let Armin know the basics of what Eren and Levi would be up to earlier in the day. He was more than understanding, and Eren only felt slightly like a shitty friend.

Eren’s GPS told him his destination was coming up on the right. The building was old and the paint flaking, but it looked clean and safe. Eren found visitor parking near the overflowing trash bins. They met Kenny at the apartment building door.

“Hey, kiddo. Or kiddos. Are you sticking around, Eren?” Kenny asked, shaking his hand.

“Yeah. That’s okay?” He would at least wait in the car if Kenny or Kuchel were adamant that he not be there, but given how Levi was picking off molecularly-sized or possibly imaginary bits of fuzz from his jacket and jeans, Eren really hoped they wouldn’t mind.

“Sure, so long as that’s what my brat nephew wants.”

“Of course I want him here. He’s not here for the local zoo.” Levi pointed at the garbage bins where a couple stray cats were having a dispute over whose territory the pizza boxes were.

Kenny sighed. “Y’know, she’s nervous too, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t.”

They made their way up two flights of stairs because the elevator was out of order. The building smelt of smoke and the general impression it gave could only be described as brown. Kenny led them to apartment 104. When he knocked on the door, Levi stopped picking at himself and grabbed Eren’s hand instead. Levi, the human ice cube, had sweaty palms currently. Eren gave him a couple reassuring squeezes.

The door opened and a petite woman greeted them. She was beautiful, but the hard years had aged her around the eyes and streaked white in her hair. She already had tears in her eyes when she hugged Kenny. She glanced over Eren, took in the fact that he was holding her son’s hand, and settled on Levi’s face. Eren could see her small chest heaving from where he stood in the hallway.

“Hello, Levi,” she said, a little watery.

“Hey, Kuchel.”

Maybe it was because she looked so much like Levi that Eren felt a pang of sympathy for her when she flinched at her son’s simple words. Eren knew Levi wasn’t being cruel by not calling her mom. Kenny on the other hand, was not pleased.

“Is that how you speak to your mother?” Kenny growled.

“Kenny, it’s okay,” Kuchel said. She turned to Eren. “And you are?”

Eren offered her his spare hand. Like Levi, she seemed to run cool, but her palms were clammy. “Eren Jaeger. I’m dating your son.”

“Oh, good.” She smiled and his heart melted a little. It had been a while since he’d seen his own mother.

She waved them in while turning away. Eren saw her pull a tissue out of her sleeve and dab at her nose. “Come in. I’ll make tea.”

Kuchel wandered off to the kitchen while they took their shoes and coats off. Under his breath, Kenny said, “You are going to try, right? I get that those alley cats outside could have raised you better than me, but I thought I at least taught you to respect women.”

“Fuck off, Kenny,” Levi mumbled at his shoes.

“What was that, you little shit?”

Eren, bless his heart, but damn his tiny brains, got between the ex and current mixed martial artists. “Can we just take a moment to breathe?”

Kenny looked taken aback. “What’s this airy-fairy bullshit?”

Levi got in Kenny’s face, which required him to get on his toe tips and still look up. “Mind your mouth around my boyfriend or I’ll fucking mind it for you.”

Eren wished he was managing the garage cats.

“Okay, back off,” Eren said in his quietest suicidal maniac voice as he shoved them apart. They were both shocked by his change in tone. “Kuchel is in the other room making tea for us. Can you at least agree to not do your jiu-jitsu bullshit in her entry way? I can’t imagine it would be very respectful of her womanhood.”

“Yeah, shit. Okay,” Kenny said, shaking off his tension. He headed to the living room, but not before clapping Eren on the shoulder. “Sorry, Eren. I didn’t mean to…call you names. And for the record, I have nothing against the BLT community.”

“Yeah, no worries, Kenny. We’ll follow you in.”

Eren turned to Levi. “So…I’m a sandwich?”

They both shared a quiet laugh. Eren felt some of the tension leave his body and Levi looked looser too.

“Kenny fucking knows it’s LGBT. He’s just messing around now.”

They sat down on the couch beside Kenny. Kuchel joined them a couple minutes later with tea and biscuits. She also must have taken some time to compose herself as her eyes were dry and she only sniffled a couple times. She set herself down in the chair closest to Levi.

“Cream or sugar?” She asked Levi.

“Neither. I take it black,” Levi said.

Kuchel nodded and chuckled to herself. “You have grown up. Do you remember when I’d let you have some of mine? But I’d water it down so much it was more milk that anything else.”

Levi sipped his tea. “No, sorry. I don’t.”

Kuchel bit back a frown and laughed. “It’s probably for the best. You probably shouldn’t have had caffeine so young.”

“Well, maybe I don’t remember, but maybe my body does. Maybe it’s why I’m so short.” Levi joked or at least Eren wanted to believe he was joking. Eren could read Kuchel’s fears of being a bad parent who had stunted her son’s growth in the mortification in her face.

“Pancakes,” Eren exclaimed, startling Kuchel and rousing Levi. He looked between the two of them. “Levi, you mentioned something about wanting the recipe, for your birthday?”

“Right,” Levi said like a drowning man catching a rope. “I remember you made pancakes on my birthday.”

“Oh, that.” Kuchel bowed her head. “I usually used a mix. It was cheaper and lasted longer than the fresh ingredients.”

And now the drowning man found that at the end of the rope was nothing but more ocean. They sat in silence. Eren was trying to recall other things Levi had told him in preparation and ways to bring them up a bit more naturally than screaming random breakfast foods out.

“Although,” Kuchel said sheepishly, “there was one time, not your birthday, when I made them, and I didn’t realize the mix was several years out of date.”

“Oh yeah,” Levi perked up and Eren felt relief. “I remember that. I threw up for a day straight.”

Eren ground his knuckle into his forehead.  _ The gods know no mercy _ .

“And I couldn’t stop crying, I thought I’d poisoned you.” Kuchel hid her mouth behind her hand. “And I called you, Kenny, to ask what to do. Do you remember what you told me?”

Kenny rubbed his brow like he had a headache. “Yeah, I told you not to feed him anymore of those damn pancakes.”

Kuchel earnestly laughed. “I wanted to rip your head off.”

“You just about did.”

“When I called the clinic, they just said to keep an eye on you. You didn’t eat much. I think it was more so the taste that got you. They tasted sick and sour.”

Levi furrowed his brows. “I don’t remember you eating them.”

“I felt so guilty and I was distraught, young, and stupid…I thought if I had forced them on you, then I should know what I…what I—I put you through.” She dissolved into tears. Eren heard Kenny curse under his breath next to him and felt Levi stiffen.

“Sorry—excuse me,” Kuchel said, getting up. She disappeared into the kitchen again to compose herself.

Kenny motioned in her direction. “Are you going to go after her?”

Levi sank into his hands. “I’m the one that’s making her fucking cry.”

“Can’t you think of a happy memory to share with her?” Kenny asked.

“I don’t have many memories. I was only six years old. Besides, I thought pancakes would be a safe thing to talk about.” Levi sagged and Eren rubbed his back. “She’s the one who turned it into something sad. Maybe she just wants to be miserable.”

“Gods, Levi, can’t you even pretend to give a shit?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Levi exploded and Eren jumped. “I can’t remember and most of what I do remember is bad. What? You want me to be like ‘Oh remember our shithole apartment? Remember when we found that dead cat under the stairs with maggots leaking out its eyes? Or watched that man jerk himself off outside our window? Or better yet, how about that guy that tried to jerk me off?’”

Kenny rose and Eren stood too. Over Eren’s head, Kenny yelled, “Watch your fucking mouth, Levi.”

Kuchel sobbed from out of sight, “Leave him alone. Stop arguing. Just stop it.”

They did, but it came with the cost of the both of them pretending the other didn’t exist. Eren was irritated with Kenny. Yes, Levi was an adult now and Kuchel was distraught, but Levi had been hurt too and at a time when he was powerless to do anything. He would love to light into Kenny about toxic masculinity and victim blaming, but there was enough shit on the plate to swallow for the time being.

Eren put a hand on Levi’s shoulder and fully expected him to throw it off, but it was worse than that. He didn’t react. Eren sat down long enough to ask, “What can I do? Do you need to leave?”

“No. I want to sort this shit out,” Levi said through his fingers.

“What can I do?”

Levi hesitated and Eren repeated his question. Levi cursed quietly. “Could you…calm her down? And bring her back? I know it’s not your place—”

“It’s fine. It’s all fine.” Eren patted Levi’s back and pushed off the couch. He gave Kenny a look and hoped he got the message to lay off before heading to the kitchen.

Kuchel was leaning against the counter, weeping into her hands.

“Hey, Kuchel,” Eren said to let her know he was there and because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

“Don’t be.” Eren leaned against the counter beside her.

“What a-a terrible first impression. Our family’s such a mess.”

Eren chuckled. “Mine hasn’t been much better lately. At least no one threw the coffee table.”

“Have they—has your family met Levi yet?”

Eren awkwardly shuffled his feet. “No, not yet. We’ve actually only been officially dating for the past week. But we’ve known each other for a couple years. We do karate together.”

“Do you think they’d like Levi? That they would accept him?”

“Of course.” Eren didn’t have to think about the answer to that question, but he wanted to. To imagine bringing Levi home or to a version of home before Zeke. His mother would have insisted on feeding him a minimum of three courses and his father would chat about hobbies. They both would embarrass Eren in their own unique ways.

“There’s that at least,” Kuchel whispered.

“Kuchel, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. You’re hurting and upset. Levi is too, which I guess is pretty shitty to hear, but the good news is you’re on the same page.” Eren didn’t know what he was saying. He probably shouldn’t be the one to be talking to her, but the other two weren’t exactly of stable mind currently.

Kuchel drew in a shaky breath and raised her head. Tears flowed freely from her closed eyes. “You mean…we’re in this together.”

“Yeah, you are. We are.” Eren shook his head. “I don’t know what will happen between you two, but I’ll promise to be there for Levi as long as he lets me. So, just take it easy and let’s have some tea? When you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Eren.” Kuchel wiped her eyes. He didn’t feel he deserved thanks. It wasn’t exactly a pep talk that would inspire a knockout.

Eren waited for her to pull herself back together and walked back to the living room with her. Kenny and Levi hadn’t killed one another and no furniture had been harmed. Eren didn’t exactly feel comfortable sitting between the two, but he figured Kenny was less likely to punch him than Levi.

A few more tears fell from her eyes. She dabbed at her nose and said, “I’m sorry, Levi.”

“It’s okay,” Levi mumbled.

“I don’t mean just for right now. I mean for everything. I hurt you and I kept on hurting you, even when I thought I was just punishing myself. I’m sorry, baby.”

This time when she cried, she didn’t leave the room. Levi raised his head and let his shoulders down. They looked at each other.

Finally, “Okay,” Levi said. He rubbed at his nose and Eren had to hold his breath.  _ Don’t you dare cry, Eren. Someone needs to keep their composure _ . Eren looked over at Kenny and when he saw the gruff and grizzled man holding a hand over his eyes, Eren lost it.  _ Composure can fuck right off then _ .

***

When they left Kuchel’s place, no one was yelling or crying. Well, they weren’t sobbing, at the very least. Levi hadn’t really cried. He’d been holding it in and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was partly out of compassion, not wanting his mother to feel any worse. Maybe it was partly out of defiance, that he didn’t want her to know how much she had hurt him. Maybe it was because holding back was familiar territory, one where he had some control.

When they got in the car and started driving, Eren had asked where Levi wanted to go. He could take him back to Levi’s place to let him alone or Eren could come in for a bit. Eren could take Levi to his place and they could hide out in his room for a while. He could even stay there while Eren and his friends went out with Armin, and Eren would call to check up on him, maybe come home early.

Why was it, Levi wondered, that he was having issues with controlling himself now? I felt like his skin was an itchy sweater worn directly on his nerves. Like he wanted to pick it off and lay oozing on the floor of Eren’s car.

“We could grab a tea, but maybe you’re all tea-ed out. I think there’s a park nearby…” Eren glanced over and stopped talking for a moment. He changed lanes and pulled down a side street. “I’m going to pull over for a minute.”

The moment Eren turned the ignition off, Levi undid his seatbelt. He leaned over the console and grabbed Eren by his shirt, shoving his face into his neck. It was awkward and Eren couldn’t really twist around in his seat, but he held Levi all the same. Eren said, “Just let it all out.”

Levi let go of Eren and opened the car door.

“Levi. LEVI. I said let it out, not get out.”

In a panic, Eren fumbled for his seatbelt and had his door open by the time he realized Levi was pounding on the back door. Eren unlocked it before getting out to get back in the rear with him. He held Levi as he swore and heaved. If Levi gripped a bit too tightly or accidentally pressed too hard in sensitive spots, Eren didn’t say a word. He just sat with him in the backseat and held on.

_ And I’m the one who said I didn’t have time for family picnics _ , Levi thought.

***

Eren didn’t think it wasn’t a good idea for Levi to go out with them tonight, and Levi knew Eren thought it, but he thought differently. Levi wanted a distraction and he didn’t want to be anywhere quiet or without some other living creature nearby.

Eren reluctantly agreed, but on the condition that they would eat and relax at Levi’s place before doing anything more strenuous than lifting a TV remote.

When Levi said he wanted to make pancakes, Eren wasn’t sure what to think. Levi said talking about them had inspired a craving. Besides, if he really wanted to torture himself, he’d have to find an expired mix. They made them from scratch. Levi was surprised Eren knew what he was doing. He was not surprised that flour and batter went flying whenever Eren touched a whisk though. Levi had made an excellent call in forcing Eren to wear an apron.

They ate while watching cartoons. Eren started falling asleep and that’s when Levi kicked his butt off the couch and forced a mop in his hand. They cleaned up the kitchen. Levi seemed like his usual self after that, but he conceded to watching a couple more cartoons because Eren wanted to. Eren held Levi as they laid on the couch and maybe Levi didn’t mind. Eren’s random pecks during commercial breaks were nice, and maybe Levi turning around to respond with something a bit longer lasting was welcome. When the show came back on, they didn’t notice because their mouths and hands had precedence over their other senses. They were like teenagers again, who didn’t have responsibilities on the family funny farm to attend to. They could pant over one another in their jeans and T-shirts, be sloppy with their kisses, and rock into one another until Eren trembled, and Levi pressed down on the small of Eren’s back and up with his own hips. Levi didn’t think he had ever come in his pants before. He wasn’t thrilled with the sensation, but it was somehow better than in his own hand where he could see and feel it all. Maybe they shouldn’t have done this. They said they would wait a bit, but Levi knew he wouldn’t shed any other bodily fluids over the rush of endorphins and the release he felt. He got it now, why Eren had come to him after Zeke happened. True, Eren had been looking to feel bad and Levi felt nothing but sheltered as Eren lay on him, breathing heavily beside his head, but he understood the desire to let go and feel good for a moment.

Eren kissed down Levi’s throat. Levi let him explore and cherish his body for a moment before saying he needed a shower. And maybe Levi didn’t judge Eren when he said he would wait to shower in his own apartment. That last maybe was very unlikely, but Levi’s wrinkled expression made them laugh.

***

Introducing Levi to his friends was, in a word, fun. Eren nearly pounded Armin’s door down trying to get him to answer. Apparently, he’d found a german metal band that he said drowned out all unnecessary thoughts and zealous roommates. Levi and Armin exchanged curt hellos, Armin asked Levi if he liked music to which he replied “No” and with a look from Eren, added “Not really”. And that was their acquaintanceship thus far.

Mikasa, on the other hand, had heard Eren busting down Armin’s door.  **T** heir 87-year old neighbour who only wore her hearing aids when Jeopardy was on probably heard him, and it was not time for her show yet. Mikasa stood in the corner down the hall, watching and waiting for Eren to introduce them. Levi had noticed her, standing there like every dead woman in a horror movie since The Ring came out. He said nothing though because he knew better than to try to manage someone else’s weird-ass roomies. Besides, she couldn’t be worse than Isabel.

“RoseMaria _ fucking _ Sina, Mikasa.” Eren jumped when he turned around and spotted her. “What are you —  _ why? _ ”

“I was waiting for you to introduce us,” she said. Levi was almost surprised when she didn’t eerily whisper  _ seven days _ .

“You could have turned a light on, gods. Levi this is Mikasa. Mikasa, Levi.”

When they shook hands it looked more like a freestyle armwrestling match. Eren wondered if he should force them apart or not.

Levi tilted his head. “Not bad.”

“Can you pull off a Kimura?” She asked him. Eren wasn’t sure what she was asking about, but it thought it had to do with lizards, maybe.

Levi scoffed. “Of fucking course.”

“You’ve never done it in a match.”

“I’ve never needed to. I can usually get them to tap with a simple armbar.”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. “Show me.”

Eren began to say, “I don’t think—”

“Can you move the table in the living room?” Levi asked her.

“Yes.”

“Is it okay if I shower then?” Eren asked.

“Yeah,” Levi said, helping Mikasa lift the table out of the way.

Eren scratched the back of his head. It had been a long day. He wouldn’t put his last brain cells to work on this social mystery.

***

As they neared the address Armin had specified for his birthday celebrations, everyone, except the heavily-belated birthday boy, thought they might be murdered. The road was unlit, winding, and dirt. If there was a log cabin at the end of the road, Eren would be turning the car around. Some people might choose to live like cattle, content to be slasher’s steak dinner, but Eren was not.

At the end of the road was actually the least likely setting for a horror movie. It was a community hall on the edge of a nature conservation park that was hosting a silent disco. And the main demographics seemed to be hipsters and nerds. They would likely survive the night.

They put their headphones around their necks and got themselves stamped into the venue.

In the light of novelty, Eren thought it was odd to have a room filled with people dancing, disco balls glittering, and hearing only the squeaking of sneakers. He thought someone had accidentally turned the background music of life off and they had only dialogue audio on.

Armin was at home here, bopping away with their friends. Jean and Marco had run over the moment Eren and company had stepped inside, and had already knocked back a couple shots with Armin.

Levi, much like the disco, was silent and mute about the experience. Eren wasn’t sure if this was because he was exhausted, if he wasn’t enjoying himself, or he was just being himself. Except when the world was twisting the knife called life into his heart, Levi was pretty stoic. Levi and Eren hadn’t really had a chance to enjoy themselves yet because whenever someone new arrived, they’d have to take their headphones off and reintroduce Levi. In the case of Sasha, they had to introduce Levi twice because she had her earbuds in the first time through.

“Marco, Jean, this is my boyfriend, Levi. They’re high school friends.”

Marco waved. Jean playfully punched Eren’s shoulder. “Good on you, bud, bagging someone better looking than you. Where’d you meet?”

“At karate, you horse-faced prick,” Eren said, stepping closer to Levi.

Jean raised a brow. “How does that work?”

“Well, uh,” Eren looked at Levi who pulled his beer back from his lips to say, “I punched Eren in the stomach and he didn’t throw up. I liked that.”

Maybe some dregs of the day's emotions were still circling the bowl of Eren’s mind because he had to hold back tears. Running into Levi’s fist had knocked the air out of him in multiple ways.  _ Get your shit together, Eren. _

Marco smiled with sweet confusion. Jean laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like a good way to pick up our favourite maniac.”

The one person he didn’t have to introduce Levi to was Connie. When Connie got there half the group was dancing and the other were chatting or drinking.

“My Uber got so lost—holy  _ shit _ .” Connie pointed at Levi and everyone, including the people wearing headphones stared. “Humanity’s Strongest is among us!”

“Stupid fucking title,” Levi muttered around the neck of his beer bottle.

Eren laughed nervously. “This is  _ Levi _ . You know him from his fighting career then?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. It’s because of him that I decided to take my training seriously,” Connie said, pumping his fists. “That and my mom said the only thing having a hard head is good for is fighting. But what are you doing here, man?”

Eren was about to say what he had been saying all night, but something in his mind grabbed the tail-end of his words. Eren was excited, happy, and proud to be with Levi, and he knew Levi felt the same. He wouldn’t be standing in the centre of Eren’s highschool friends as they danced to unheard music while the disco ball spun above them if he didn’t care for Eren. But they hadn’t really talked about how they would approach their relationship with the public, especially those who were also in the fighting profession.

“Uh, well, we train together,” Eren said. If looks could swear, Levi’s face would be spitting some choice words.  _ Shit, abort. Abort. _

Jean laughed. “Is that what you call it?”

Marco elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t be a shit, Jean.”

“At Erwin’s dojo or Kenny’s?” Connie asked Eren.

“I just go to Erwin’s, but also—”

“I’m joining Erwin’s too.” Connie pinched Sasha and she stopped doing her best impression of a jigging octopus. “That’s Levi Ackerman! The guy who won against Zeke The Beast.”

Sasha, despite having been introduced to Levi twice already, gasped. “Holy  _ shit _ . You’re  _ that _ Levi. I just thought maybe you were his twin brother.”

Armin pulled his headphones off. “Sasha, why would twin brothers have the same name?”

“It’s the smartest thing to do. You’ll never mix them up then.”

“That checks out.” Connie nodded.

“No it fucking doesn’t,” Jean said. Marco put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Jean would have an easier time arguing with the Mad Hatter than with Connie and Sasha.

“I’m so stoked to train with you,” Connie said to Levi.

“It’ll be good to have some fresh blood.” Levi added, “I’m here tonight because Eren and I are dating, by the way.”

“ _ Holy shit _ . Eren, how the fuck did you swing that?” Connie clapped him Eren the back. He apologized to Levi. “Sorry, I’m all wound up. It’s just, you’re like a hero to me. There aren’t that many small guys like us in the UFC. And none that dominate like you. I bet on you every time and you haven’t failed me yet.”

To Eren’s surprise, Levi cracked a smile and toasted Connie.

After the group had committed to dancing, Eren tapped Levi’s shoulder. He removed his headphones and stopped bobbing to the music.

“Do you want another drink?” Eren asked Levi.

“Sure.”

They walked over to the bar. “What would you like?”

“How about some communication?”

Eren nodded. “Yeah, we probably should have talked when we first became official.”

Eren dug his knuckles into his forehead. “I never asked you if you’re okay with being open with our relationship. Like, could our relationship…could it be a problem—not a problem—could the UFC have a problem with us?”

Levi nodded. “I worry about that too, but I don’t think the boss of the UFC is here shaking it on the dance floor.”

“Word could get out,” Eren reasoned.

Levi nodded to where Sasha and Connie’s feet were moving so vigorously, it sounded like they were murdering many, many mice, while Jean was standing with Marco watching them, and Armin and Mikasa were gently bobbing. “You trust them, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. Then we just ask them to keep it on the down-low.” Eren was worried and Levi was silent for a moment before saying, “I don’t want to change the way I live.”

“I know.” Eren reached for Levi’s arm. Eren didn’t quite know Levi’s struggle, but he could sympathize. He hadn’t yet had a career to lose, especially not one where people were legally allowed to punch him, and even more so, never while being a public figure in a macho atmosphere. But Eren had been a loud-mouthed, passionate, angsty (as Levi would say) teenage brat. And during the pressure-cooker shark tank that is highschool no less. Even animals knew how to camouflage and herd together to live another day. Knowing what he did now about the anxiousness and cruelty of teenagers, would Eren have kept his shirts company in the closet? No, but only because Eren didn’t understand the concepts of subtlety and self preservation. And he had a Mikasa.

While ordering Levi another drink, Eren happened to hear Connie yell that Annie had arrived with Historia and Ymir in a very expensive, red car. On the back burner of Eren’s mind, something had come to temperature before Eren was consciously aware. He left Levi to wait for his drink and wandered over to the window to see Ymir helping Historia out of the backseat while Annie was leaning into the passenger seat to have a word with the driver. The thought on the back burner boiled over and he walked swiftly out the door, passing the women on the way in. If Historia and Ymir hadn’t been between Eren and Annie when he walked past, Annie would have reached out to grab him.

The red Ferrari was turning around and about to make its way back down Serial Killer Lane. The driver must have looked up into the rearview mirror and caught Eren staring into the back windshield. The brake lights were hammered on and the car was put into park. Zeke left the car running and the door open as he stepped out and strode towards Eren.

***

Levi turned around and came face to face with Armin. His headphones were off and a very un-birthday look in his eyes. Levi had often seen that look right before choking someone out. Armin didn’t have to say anything and he knew it. The clever little shit was more observant than the lot of them. He pointed out the doors. 

Mikasa caught up with Levi as they stepped outside where Annie and the two other women were standing. Annie turned and nodded at Mikasa, but her eyes went wide when she saw Levi. Annie walked over to them with her hand outstretched. “They’re just talking.”

“I’ve seen what Zeke’s talking looks like,” Mikasa said darkly.

“If you or especially  _ you _ ,” Annie said to Levi, “go over there, things will get violent. But Zeke does want to talk to Eren. With his mouth and not his fists. And Eren came to him.”

Levi stepped in front of Mikasa to hold her back. “We’re close enough that if Zeke pulls anything, he wouldn’t get very far. And Eren is well-trained.”

“He was well-trained last time they met too, right?” Mikasa bit out.

“From what Eren’s told me, last time Zeke jumped him on some rain-slicked, fenced-in patio behind a bar,” Levi said. “Give him some credit that he can handle himself in an open parking lot.”

Levi believed his words with his whole heart. But he also felt like doing the opposite with his whole fists.

***

Eren also had strode to meet Zeke in the middle of the gravel lot. When they got within ten feet of one another, they both stopped. Actually, Eren had taken a couple steps forward and Zeke a couple back. Eren gave him a questioning look.

Zeke stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. “I promised my—our—Grisha that I wouldn’t go near you. Not until I earned his trust.”

“‘Earned his trust’?”

“Like by not getting into trouble, going to counselling, staying sober. Just shit like that.”

Eren asked, “So why risk that here and now by talking to me?”

Zeke kicked at the bits of gravel. “I feel like shit. I thought maybe you could…”

Eren waited, but not comfortably. His heart was trying to punch its way out of his ribs, but he couldn’t tell if the driving force was fear or anger.

“I thought maybe you could just sock me one.”

Eren opened his mouth and closed it. “What?”

“Just punch me once—or twice, your choice—real good.” Zeke gestured about himself. “I know it’s not the same as what I did to you, but it’s all I could think when I saw you standing here. That I really, really wanted you to hit me.”

Eren’s heart had stopped pounded on its cage and was now curiously peaking through its bars. “What? No. Why would I?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“It certainly is fucking not.”

“Okay because you want to.”

“No—well, MAYBE. But that’s a terrible reason.”

***

“What do you think they’re saying?” Mikasa asked.

“That’s for them to know,” Levi said. “If they start swinging, that’s when we step in.”

“Zeke feels bad,” Annie said, “so he’ll probably do something stupid.”

Historia looked from Eren and Zeke to the group of people congregating around them. “What’s this all about then?”

Ymir tossed her arm around her shoulders. “Dunno. But if we get bored of this macho bullshit, we could do something fun, like go dance, have some drinks, get married.”

Historia kept her eyes on the men by the car. “Hm. Maybe tomorrow. Armin’s birthday shouldn’t be overshadowed.”

“I wouldn’t care,” Armin said, appearing behind them with Sasha. He nodded at Zeke, “And I think Zeke asked Eren to hit him.”

“What?” Mikasa gasped.

Annie smiled at Armin. “Yeah, that sounds like Zeke.”

Armin continued. “I think Eren said no.”

Levi stared at Armin. “You can read lips?”

Armin shrugged. “Sort of. I wear headphones so often to drown out noise, but then I started picking up on what people were saying when I looked at them.”

“By ‘noise’, do you mean Eren?” Annie asked.

“…Sometimes.”

Sasha gasped. “Zeke is facing us, but Eren’s turned away. Armin, do you have x-ray vision? Can you see through Eren’s skull?”

“No, I’ve just lived most of my life around Eren and I know what he would or wouldn’t—”

Ymir whistled. “He hit him.”

** *****

Eren’s fist connected with Zeke’s bicep and then he stepped back. Zeke rolled his shoulder once and gave Eren a withering look. “What kind of weak-ass shit was that?”

Eren shrugged. Before he decided to punch him, Zeke had given one more reason. 

He had stood across from Eren, grasping at imaginary things. “I feel guilty as shit and I can’t shake it. Somehow, hurting sounds good. You ever get a blood blister and want to pierce the skin to release the pressure?” 

Eren could feel the anger swelling in him. Yeah, he had felt that way recently because of Zeke. Eren had gone to Levi, expecting to feel pain and Levi had shown him kindness. But Eren didn’t have any warm feelings for Zeke. Well, he had red-hot rage, but it didn’t exactly give him the fuzzy-wuzzies.

Eren’s punch was harder than he’d do playfully, except maybe for Jean, but definitely not capable of damage. In the end, they both only got about half of what they wanted to do or be done.

“Just focus on not being a piece of shit,” Eren said. He walked a couple steps backwards while saying, “I’ve got a friend’s birthday to celebrate.”

“But—”

“HIS BIRTHDAY WAS DELAYED BECAUSE OF YOU.” Eren said this loudly enough that no one needed Armin to interpret. Eren dialled his tone back from 12 to his usual 8. “If you want to apologize, we can sort that shit out at an appropriate time and place.”

Zeke’s face twitched. “You’re the one who came out to meet me—”

“I know that.”

“Then why—”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Eren spat. He believed this. He hadn’t thought about telling anyone before running off.  _ It’s Armin’s birthday and I left Levi—OH SHIT. I  _ left _ Levi standing on his own at a party where he knows no one and everyone is wearing headphones. _ Eren knew for introverts this was essentially stranding someone on a deserted island with no supplies and plenty of animals to contend with. “I’ve got to go. Just sort things out with our dad and don’t be a dick to women.”

Eren darted off, leaving Zeke standing awkwardly for a moment before he realized there was an audience in the bushes that had been watching them. He swiftly got in his car and kicked up gravel as he sped off. 

Eren was less observant. He would have run past his friends and probably flown into an ungodly panic in the disco if Mikasa hadn’t clotheslined him.

Armin and Historia offered Eren a hand up. He rubbed his throat and said a little hoarsely, “What are you all doing out here?”

“Wondering the same thing about you.” Mikasa glowered.

“I know. I didn’t think. I ran off without telling anyone again.” Eren looked to Levi who was giving him his trademark dead eyes. “I left you alone at the bar. I’m sorry.”

“I can stand being the asshole who hangs around the booze, but I think the general consensus is,” Levi said, clapping a hand to the back of Eren’s neck and bumping their foreheads together with enough force to send a tingle down their spines, “we were fucking worried. And pissed. We expect Zeke to be a piece of shit. We don’t expect that from you.”

Eren’s face was burning, a bit from shame, a decent amount from Levi’s touch. Maybe another teaspoon of shame from getting pleasure when he should feel bad. “You’re right. Okay. I’m sorry everyone.”

Most seemed sated. Ymir and Historia still didn’t know what was going on. Jean, Marco, and Connie only just realized everyone was missing and were pissed for being left out. Except for Marco whose gentle soul knew no anger, at least not towards anyone who wasn’t named Jean.

“Gods dammit, Eren,” Jean chided. “Can’t you let Armin have one night that isn’t about chasing after you?”

Marco put his hand on Jean’s shoulder. “What Jean means is you worried us.”

“I’m capable of saying what I mean. I have half a mind—”

Marco interrupted, “ _ I  _ have half a mind to drag everyone back onto the dance floor. Well, I guess for the ladies it’ll be your first time.”

Eren offered his hand to Levi, but Levi was talking to Annie. “Hey, sorry for calling your friend a piece of shit.”

Levi served dead eye and Annie raised him with a frozen stare. “I don’t care. He is a piece of shit. I just happen to like people like him.”

Levi nodded at her and turned to Eren who still had his hand limply reaching out for him. Levi sized Eren up, making him sweat one more time over whether Levi was pissed or not with Eren for taking off. Annie glanced between the two of them. Eren, remembering Annie was part of the fighting world and that they had recently decided to keep their relationship separate from that funny, violent world, awkwardly pulled his hand back to rub his hair, like he had been intending to groom himself the entire minute he was reaching out for Levi.

Annie shrugged and walked off. “You wouldn’t be the first gay guy in the UFC I know of.”

“He’s not gay!” Eren called after her. “He’s Ghost—I mean he’s bi!” 

“C’mon, brat.” Levi grabbed Eren’s hand and led him back into the hall. “I’m tired. Fuck the DJ. Let’s just slow dance.”

***

“You’re a good dancer.”

“Fuck off, Eren.”

“I mean it.” Levi was sure Eren did mean it, even if he was laughing into Levi’s neck as they laid in Eren’s bed. 

“I know.” 

Levi didn’t dance, but he knew how to move and picked up anything to do with movement quickly. Besides, he hadn’t needed much skill to rest his head on Eren’s shoulder and sway. They had accidentally started a trend on the dancefloor that escalated when Ymir saw them and pulled Historia close to slowly dance despite the heavy EDM beats blasting in their headphones. Sasha and Connie joined in, though it seemed more for jokes as they kept dramatically dipping one another. Then randos blushingly cradled someone special and/or new and slowed their steps. The DJ actually took his own headphones off to make sure someone wasn’t blasting Careless Whisper on a portable speaker somewhere, then shrugged, spun an appropriate slow-dance track, and swayed himself to the mellow beats.

Levi had also had alcohol, which made him at least think he was a better dancer in the moment. Though he did not have as much as Armin. Levi was grateful he had few friends. Furlan and Isabel could be assholes, but they didn’t have the funds to spend on half a dozen shots of alcohol.

Eren’s sides stopped quaking with laughter and he pulled back enough to see Levi’s face. Eren looked upset as he said, “And I am sorry about running off.”

Levi grabbed Eren’s nose. “Yeah, I know that too. We’ll work at that.”

It was late, the day had been fucked, Levi was probably not quite sober, and Mikasa had helped Armin into bed, not walking very straight herself. They should sleep.

Levi kissed Eren firmly and at length.  _ How did he do it? _ Levi dug his fingers into Eren’s back hard enough that he could feel his bones beneath his muscles. Eren kissed him back and leaned into his touch, but when Eren felt Levi’s thigh rub between his legs, he broke away. “What are you doing?”

Levi stopped. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Maybe not.” It was too dark to see if Eren was flushed, but Levi could feel heat coming off his cheeks. “I just want to know, I guess, what’s going on in your mind? Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Then we should sleep, right?”

The moon made an appearance and cast its dopey light on them. Eren was definitely flushed and his mouth open slightly. Levi ran a thumb around Eren’s lips. “Today was shitty. You were not. I know we agreed to take things slow, but we’ve already fucked that up. I feel like you deserve more than getting dry humped on my second-hand couch.”

Eren sat up. “Full disclosure, this bed is actually second-hand, but the mattress is new.”

“The couch wasn’t the main point. I was just being colourful.”

Eren nodded and relaxed back into bed. Eren absentmindedly played with the fuzz of Levi’s undercut and he felt his shoulders soften.

Eren said lightly, “You don’t owe me anything, Levi. That’s not how we should work. I mean, I’m glad you appreciate me, but—I know, you know. Being in your life is no trouble. It’s exciting. Anyway,” Eren sheepishly looked at his sheets like they were the voice of reason here, “it’s kinda late to take a shower…right?”

“Showers are only necessary when something is going in somewhere.”

Eren’s voice rose. “Oh yeah?”

Levi hooked a finger in Eren’s boxer band. With them being shirtless, it was easy to see Eren’s breathing pick up. Levi asked, “Yes?”

Eren nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Levi palmed Eren to the point of getting hard. When Eren’s breath hitched, he pulled Eren’s boxers down and began pumping. “Tell me when you’re close and I’ll catch it.”

“I can catch it. Just— _ shit _ —kiss me. Hold me.”

_ How the fuck do you do it, Eren? _ Levi kissed down Eren’s throat, sucking and nipping his nipples, digging his nails into Eren’s back with his free hand.  _ Just living your life with your heart bleeding all over the goddamn floor. Aren’t you scared? _

Levi was shit with words, especially when it mattered most. He had always been good with the physical realm though. He hoped Eren understood what he was trying to communicate as touched him.  _ You make me feel, shithead. _

“Oh,  _ fuck. _ ” Eren curled his body as Levi’s hand and mouth worked him over.

_ I’m shitting my pants every time I walk in the octagon. I couldn’t even put on my shoes without thinking that I was going to lose my mind today. And you just walk into my mess and handle it. How? _

“Eren, tell me what you want.”

“Bite down. Yeah, there.”

Levi used his teeth to pull gently at Eren’s nipple. Eren let out a moan that Furlan would have heard rattle in the vents had they been in Levi’s bedroom. Levi’s dick was getting hard from listening to Eren, but it was almost two in the morning, and Eren’s roommates were sleeping off youthful choices. Fun as it was, he kissed Eren to swallow the sound. 

Levi didn’t know he could find someone’s sex noises endearing, and maybe that wasn’t it. Levi found Eren endearing in the way he treated everything with passion, from fighting for justice to flipping pancakes an unnecessary three feet in the air. Or, fuck, standing up to Kenny. Eren might not know Kenny’s career and credentials, but he knew he was dangerous and he still got between the two of them. Levi had meant it when he said Eren was well trained, but, fuck, he looked like Bambi staring down the Big Bad Wolf in Kuchel’s entry way.  _ Do you know how you make me feel? That I’m worthy, and more than the bad memories and the millions who thought nah, this runting shit from fuck all won’t make it one round? You look at me like I’ve never been down or dirt. Do you know how much you piss me off, Eren? _

“Yes, fuck,” Eren gasped into Levi’s chest. Levi could feel him mouthing right over his left pec. Like Eren needed another heart in his mouth.

As weird as it was to think of Kuchel while tugging on Eren, his mind slipped to how Eren hadn’t hesitated on coming with him or dealing with his fucked family or holding him on some backstreet in The Underground. They had been official for just over a week and Eren had agreed to walk through a maternal mire that Levi didn’t even want to trek through.  _ And after what I did, not listening to you about Zeke. Don’t you want even a little bit of revenge? _ Levi brushed aside Eren’s bangs to watch his face scrunch up.  _ Of fucking course you don’t. _

Eren moved his hands to cup around his penis. He was shaking. “Fuck, Levi. I can’t hold on.”

“Then don’t.”

_ You want love. I don’t know how that works, but fuck it. I didn’t know how to throw a proper punch until four years ago. I’ll do what I did then. Just throw everything at you until something hits. Until it feels right. Until it’s enough. _

Levi pumped faster and tighter until Eren was shakily complete. Levi kissed him forehead to collar bone, ran his hand through Eren’s hair, and breathed, “You’ve got me going, you shitty brat.”

Eren wiped his hands on his boxers and threw them on the floor. He still looked dopey as he reached for Levi. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”  _ It makes me uncomfortable. _ “You’ve cleaned up enough.”

He thought Eren would kiss and cuddle him, and eventually pull himself out of the afterglow to tend to Levi. And he did kiss him, but he noticed Levi’s need through the sweatpants he’d borrowed from Eren. He undid the draw string and pulled them down. He pumped Levi with one hand and massaged the back of Levi’s neck with his other.  _ It makes me uncomfortable because you make me feel safe. Is any of this getting across to you? _

“How does it feel?” Eren asked, after working over Levi’s torso with his mouth. 

“I don’t know,” Levi panted, “it might be too medium for me.”

Eren paused his hands and had to think for a moment. “Wait—Are you…are you giving me a hard time?”

“I’d say you’re the one giving me a hard time.”

Eren, both of them really, couldn’t help but laugh.  _ You piss me off so much. It has to be rage _ .

Eren started pumping again and the quivering in Levi’s abdomen was no longer coming from laughter.  _ Only rage has ever been this overwhelming. _

“Fuck, almost.” Levi put a hand on Eren’s arm to still him and began thrusting into Eren’s fist. He cupped a hand in front of his dick.

Eren asked, “Are you okay with just coming on me? I don’t mind, I actually think it’s kind of hot. But if you’re not into—”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Eren rolled more onto his back, pulling Levi with him. Levi thrusted heavily into Eren’s one hand while Eren's other cupped Levi’s ass to keep him steady. Levi looked down at Eren, and he was looking right back with a clarity that Levi only knew Erwin to have. Like he _had_ trained on misty mountain tops or maybe drank ginseng with Buddha or learned the truth of the universe from watching monkeys pick fleas off of one another's backs. Either way, the little shit looked like he knew more than he should have. “ _ Oh fuck _ .”

Levi came onto Eren’s stomach. He could feel his face wrinkling at the sight. “Disgusting.”

“No.” Eren reached for his boxers and wiped himself down. “You’re gorgeous, Levi." He sat up to kiss Levi, to hold him. "And your fuse isn’t short at all, Napoleon.”

Eren laughed, even as Levi came crashing down on him to pin his arms and kiss him into the bed until Eren tapped. Thank the fucking gods he did because Levi was running out of air.

_ You could do so much damage to me, but fuck it.  _

"I can't call you fuck without benefits anymore," Levi said. "You've been upgraded to fuck with _some_ benefits."

"Only some?"

"Yeah because your fucking mouth is a big fucking negative."

_ Every second with you in our arena is adrenaline and I never want to hear the bell ring. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two main things and everything after is just an info dump:
> 
> 1\. Thank you for reading, be you an avid commenter, serial kudoser, or ninja lurker. I hope you had fun and that you let me know your honest thoughts. 
> 
> 2\. This isn't quite the end. There will be another oneshot by December 25th aka Christmas aka Levi's birthday. I actually wrote that oneshot first and then thought, shit, I could make a longfic out of that. It won't be plot heavy. Mainly, fluff, smut, jokes, Eren reconciling with his family, and Levi meeting the Jaegers.
> 
> 3\. (I know, only 2 things, but I figure if you spent the time reading 1. and 2., you're likely to read the following blabber) Be well. The world is fucky-doo for a lot of people right now. Even if your house is more like Zeke's than Kuchel's, you can hurt and your feelings are valid. And if you can't get off the phone, the Netflix, the bed, the floor today, that's okay. So long as there's a tomorrow, then there's a tomorrow to try.
> 
> Other notes:
> 
> The random-ass, sometimes fever dream chapter titles. They were all from songs or movies/books about fluffy rabbits fucking on the highland moors. Just kidding, they were all from songs or movies/books about fighting. In case you're wondering where they came from, want to give yourself a pop quiz, or see if I, in fact, am talking out my ass, here's the list:
> 
> Chapter 1: A Juvenile Product of the Working Class ------------------- Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting) by Elton John  
> Chapter 2: I am Jack’s Broken Heart -------------------------------- Fight Club the book by Chuck Palahniuk/movie  
> Chapter 3: Your Name is Buck, Right? ------------------------------- Kill Bill  
> Chapter 4: He Carries the Reminder of Every Glove that Laid Him Down --- The Boxer by Simon & Garfunkel (although, I personally like Mumford & Son's cover better)  
> Chapter 5: Wax On, Wax Off --------------------------------------- The Karate Kid (y'all probs knew that already)  
> Chapter 6: Mo Cuishle-------------------------------------------- Million Dollar Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I'm def open to constructive criticism, and greatly appreciate comments and kudos. Like, if given the choice between getting a comment or a slice of cheesecake, well I'd need to know the flavour of cake but most likely your words would stay with me longer :)


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